


Fly Me Away

by somethingquitepeculiar



Series: Something Quite Peculiar [2]
Category: Guardians of Childhood & Related Fandoms, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Humor, Banter, Death, Drama, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, General fiction, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Humor, Literature, Love, Mortality, Multi, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Original Character(s), Peter Pan References, Romance, Sarcasm, Sequel, Sisters, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 21:08:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 59,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3502829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingquitepeculiar/pseuds/somethingquitepeculiar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A whole world of magic and superstition is hidden within our own, and all these legends and myths have their own hierarchy, their own rules, and their own way of doing things.</p>
<p>The Muses follow the sun.  The Guardians follow the moon.  Things have been this way for centuries, and their alliance is more important than ever.  </p>
<p>But what happens when someone challenges Apollo and the Man in the Moon?</p>
<p>In a mad attempt to clean up a mess they created protecting their own, the Guardians and Muses try to sway the opinions of other mythical beings in their favor.  However, it seems that someone else has beaten them to the punch.  With potential danger looming, they must scramble to figure out what to do.</p>
<p>Apollo, ever arrogant, will not step down without a fight, and he has something that Jack Frost wants.  Can he sway the boy, anxious and haunted by past memories, to do his bidding?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Shut Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Please take note that this is a sequel. Please read Something Quite Peculiar first!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Rise of the Guardians or the Guardians of Childhood series or the associated trademark, characters, and storylines. I do not own, nor am I associated with DreamWorks Animation or William Joyce.

**Chapter One: Shut Your Eyes**

* * *

A weeping skull, adorned with white calla lilies. A tragedy mask, grim and beautiful, secured to the wearer's face with glossy black ribbons.

Black hair wisped about the mask with the wind, pale gray eyes watched blankly from behind it. The figure was tall, slim, and draped in a black, red, and gray dress.

She stood on the glacier with the boy, posture perfect and entirely silent.

"I came here to be  _alone,"_  he practically growled, teeth clenched and grinding in such a way that would surely make the Tooth Fairy cringe.

The woman didn't move, didn't speak. She remained exactly as she was, arms crossed and judgmental.

Jack Frost's knuckles were white from gripping his staff so tightly, his bloodshot eyes meeting hers. She always brought such an unsettling feeling along with her. The solitude of the Antarctic somehow felt even lonelier with her here than it had without her.

The icy air felt somehow colder, sinister.

She was that anxious feeling in your stomach, the nervous racing in your heart when you knew something terrible was about to happen.

"What do you want from me? To watch? Haven't you had enough yet?" Jack demanded, shouting at the woman.

He had made a truce with Calliope back in February. She was the oldest, a stand-in leader for the Muses. They had agreed to try harder to get along.

But this woman, with the tragedy mask and cold eyes, hadn't been present for this truce. They had history. It went without saying that simply trying harder wasn't going to really work.

Especially if she was going to turn up in the one place he could still really go to get away from everyone.

Especially if she was just going to stand there and watch him, he and the dark circles beneath his eyes and his heavy breathing.

"What do you  _want,_  Melpomene?" he shouted again.

Melpomene didn't budge.

Somehow he knew she was smiling that twisted smile of hers beneath that mask.

"I get it, I attract tragedy so why  _wouldn't_ you show up? Why wouldn't you lurk around and drink it in like you always do? Like the goddamn  _vulture_  you are?" His voice was starting to tremble now. His head ached. "Isn't there enough tragedy in the world? Why do you have to be  _here_  with  _me?"_

She still didn't say a word.

The whistle of the wind, his nervous breathing, his pounding heart, all screamed in his ears.

"Say something!" he called, his voice echoing.

"I don't have to be here," came her raspy voice. "You want me here."

"No, I don't," he said.

"Yes, you do," she said. "You miss me."

Jack watched her incredulously, head spinning.

Nothing made any sense.

"No, I don't. I would have been happy never seeing you again, you  _know_  that," he said.

"You miss being around someone that understands your misery," she said, taking a few graceful steps forward. "Someone to be miserable with."

"No, no, I don't want to go there again," Jack said, shaking his head and taking a step back as she came closer.

"You're already there," she said. "You're lonely. You're miserable. You thought having the Guardians meant you would never feel lonely again and yet here you are, with an empty feeling in your stomach that just won't go away. They're not enough anymore."

"I liked it better when you weren't talking," Jack said, head throbbing as her voice echoed around his skull.

"You want more, you're lonely for intimacy," Melpomene said, running her long, skeletal fingers down her curves, exaggerated by the waist cincher she wore. "You're lonely for touch, for sweet nothings, for  _friction."_

Jack took another step back, skeptical eyes never leaving her. She stopped walking, hands falling to her hips, confidently.

"Your flesh yearns for contact. Your arms itch for someone to hold, a hunger you can't satisfy," she said.

"I don't want anything to do with you," he said.

"Hm, but the one you  _do_  want is gone. That's what makes it tragic," Melpomene said, reaching forward and running a finger down the side of his face. His eyes ached, begging for him to shut them, but he forced them open. "You're so  _lonely_  that I'm starting to look like excellent company again. You know this is a bad idea."

"It's not a bad idea," Jack said, taking another step back. "It's the  _worst_  idea."

"Well, you're certainly not in the habit of acting on good ones," she said.

"Go away," Jack said, shaking his head and turning away.

"You know it's not the last you'll see of me," she said, her voice taking on a sing-song tone.

"Look, I'm not here for your personal amusement—!" Jack started, spinning around and fully prepared to shout at the woman until he was red in the face.

But she was gone.

"Disappearing act, huh?" he called after no one. As his eyes fell to the ground, however, he saw something peculiar.

There weren't any footprints in the snow where Melpomene had just been walking.

She was a Muse, sure. She had the ability to appear and disappear just about anywhere she wanted. She could take on any disguise she wanted with the help of her mask.

But she wasn't one of the Muses gifted with flight.

She was still solid. If she had been walking there, she should have left prints. Jack had left prints from the few steps back he had taken.

The boy sank to his knees squinting his eyes as he examined the snow more closely. Nothing.

Had she even been there at all?

"Melpomene?" he said, glancing around the immediate area, almost wishing to see her again and confirm that he hadn't been imagining things.

There wasn't a soul to be seen.

He was entirely alone.

He had  _been_  entirely alone.

Lying down in the snow, Jack grabbed at the sides of his head, still aching.

What day was it? When was the last time he had slept?

He didn't need to sleep as much as a mortal did. He could easily go a few days without, especially if nothing too emotionally or physically taxing was going on.

But he still had to sleep, at least sometimes, or he would start to feel it.

He was starting to feel it.

Jack tried thinking over the past few days, what he had done, where he had gone. Had he woken up or gone to sleep in any of that time?

Everything was a blur of sunrises and sunsets, days and nights, strained eyes and slow reflexes as he stumbled through the parts of the world that would be expecting snow this time of year.

As his movements grew lethargic, the weather became erratic, too dangerous for kids to play in or have fun.

Was he weak because he hadn't slept, or because the believers he had (honestly a small amount in comparison to the others, he was still trying to build it up) were losing faith?

He closed his eyes, covering them with his hands as he mentally counted to ten. His eyes begged him to stay closed, his body begged him to relax his muscles and just let sleep come to him.

He opened his eyes again, forcing himself to sit upright.

Hallucinating the Muse of Tragedy had to be a huge sign to take a goddamn nap already.

But he wasn't sure that sleeping was actually a better alternative to this. The Sandman and Pitch Black didn't need to do anything to Jack Frost's dreams; his own mind stirred up images that left him feeling desperate and alone whenever he woke up.

Surely it was better to just skip straight to desperate and alone?

He didn't want to be haunted by images of something so painfully out of reach. He was sure he wouldn't be able to rest fully until the anniversary of that full moon back in January finally passed.

He still had  _months_  to go.

The boy's head felt heavy and lulled to the side, eyelids heavy as well.

How was he supposed to keep this up for another couple of  _months?_  He was a Guardian! The Guardians and the Muses were on the verge of some serious trouble if they weren't strategic about their public relations, if they weren't watchful and cautious.

It was all so complicated.

Jack honestly couldn't remember most of what had been discussed at the last meeting, only stirring from his haze when his name was mentioned.

The others were beginning to lose their patience with him, he could tell.

He hadn't been given many tasks to complete. Mostly, he was supposed to keep the kids having fun, the usual.

It was hard to spread joy when you weren't feeling much of it yourself.

Jack began leaning forward, eyes closed and slipping into sleep for no more than a second before startling himself awake, certain he had seen a flash of big, brown eyes.

He felt shaken, anxious.

Scrambling to his feet, Jack rubbed his eyes again, urging them to stay open.

"You're okay, you're okay," he mumbled to himself, forcing deep breaths and shaking his head. He wished he could get to some coffee; it wasn't as though he could just waltz into a café and order himself a cup.

He wanted the caffeine boost, but also had been craving it for other reasons in the past few weeks. He longed for the ritual, for waking up after a restful sleep, for smelling it as it was made, for the sound as it poured into the mug.

Morning conversations over the liquid that cooled the moment he took the mug into his hands. The sleepy smile of the girl that had fixed him the first cup he'd ever actually had.

Those cozy mornings seemed so far away.

Nothing seemed that cozy anymore.

It was just cold, lonely.

Jack was honestly frustrated at the loneliness he felt. He had friends now; he had a family! He had finally found the place he belonged and his greater purpose with the Guardians.

And now, after all of that, it wasn't enough.

How could he still be so lonely while surrounded by people that cared about him?

Jack rolled his shoulders, wincing as they ached. He couldn't keep hanging around Antarctica feeling sorry for himself and talking to personifications of tragedy that weren't actually there. Maybe if he went somewhere there were  _actual_  people he could wake himself up, make it snow, focus on something else.

Anything else.

When he wasn't busy, he was left with his thoughts and lately that was not doing wonders for his emotional state.

(Because not sleeping was  _totally beneficial to it.)_

"Snowboards, skis, those are fun, I'll find a ski resort. That'll work," he mumbled, shaking his head again as he stumbled a few steps and caught the wind, flying clumsily as he went.

He just had to stay busy, that was all.

Surely he wouldn't even notice how tired he was after a while if he just made sure he was staying busy.

Time would surely go by faster if he kept his mind off things and kept busy.

Completely ignoring everything that was stressing him out and keeping busy was a completely logical and achievable goal.

Jack could feel himself nodding off again as he flew along, glancing down at the ocean below him.

Maybe the shock and terror of a plunge would wake him up.

"Let's not," he mumbled, forcing himself to look forward as he continued on.


	2. Ghosts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter two! I know the last one wasn't too long and this one's not very long either, but I'm still building up momentum for this story.

_"Why are you here!?"_

_"Don't you want me here?"_

* * *

**Chapter Two: Ghosts**

* * *

Calliope tapped her fingers against her arm impatiently as Tooth directed her fairies. Tooth's back was turned to the Muse and the Sandman, having promised to give them her full attention as soon as her fairies were off to their respective locations.

"Sorry about that," Tooth said, fluttering back to where the others stood. "It's been a busy day! I mean, it's always busy, but more than usual, it feels like."

Sandy offered Tooth a warm smile and a thumbs-up to indicate that it was fine; he understood that she had a lot to do.

"We won't be here long," Calliope said. "I just wanted to let you know, I've finally gotten in touch with Athena about setting up a time to meet with her."

"Oh, when will that be? I'll make sure the fairies are ready to run the operation by themselves for a few hours so I can be there," Tooth said enthusiastically. Athena was, of course, one of their top priorities when it came to collecting new allies.

"Apparently it  _won't_  be happening," Calliope said, visibly frustrated as she relayed this news to Tooth, who seemed baffled.

"Why?" asked Tooth.

A sun, a crescent moon, two silhouettes and more appeared above Sandy's head in quick succession as he made wild gestures with his hands.

"Wait, what, she won't talk to us while the Muses are under Apollo's control? Since when?" Tooth said, shocked.

"I don't know! She said she wouldn't meet with us or negotiate  _anything_  while we were still associated with him. It's not like we can just…  _not_  be associated with him! He brought us back from the  _dead,"_  Calliope said, teeth clenched.

A war helmet, the sun, and a few other images appeared above Sandy's head, all ending with a question mark.

"No, I don't think he did anything to irritate her recently… Even Apollo would rather be on Athena's good side. Ares is the one that's still angry about Apollo beating him at boxing  _thousands_  of years ago," Calliope said.

"So what do we do now?" Tooth asked.

"I sent Urania to give Apollo a message about this and see if he knows what's going on. And Arachne hears a lot of gossip at her studio so she said she'd keep an ear open for us because I'd  _really_  like to get this sorted out, we  _need_  Athena on our side," Calliope said.

Silhouettes of all the Guardians, as well as representations of their jobs formed in sand above Sandy's head, implying that he meant to say that in the meantime the Guardians should focus on their jobs and keeping the children safe.

"I'll tell my fairies to listen for anything suspicious, they're already keeping an eye out for Pitch," Tooth said.

"Good. I really need to inspire some people soon or I'm going to start getting weak, I've been too focused on all this," Calliope sighed. "But we need to see North, first."

"Is he still trying to talk to Ares?" Tooth asked.

Sandy rolled his eyes and nodded his head.

"It's a fool's errand but yes, he is," Calliope said. "We've got to fill him in on what's going on with Athena and see if he has any ideas about what to do with Jack."

"Oh no, what's he done now?" Tooth said, cringing as though bracing for the impact of whatever dumb thing Jack had been doing.

Jack's silhouette appeared above Sandy's head, walking away from a bed.

"He  _still_  hasn't slept?" Tooth said, eyes wide.

"He's actively avoiding the dream sand, too, so there's no subtle knocking him out for his own good," Calliope said. "Thankfully the mortals are blaming the erratic weather on climate change and Mother Nature hasn't gotten mad  _yet."_

"I don't understand, he and North spent a few weeks working on his cabin to take his mind off things, I thought he was doing better," Tooth said. "He has a new bed with new sheets and pillows;  _I_  wanted to take a nap when I saw it."

"Well, it doesn't look like he's been by his cabin recently, and this goes way beyond having a  _place_  to sleep," Calliope said, pursing her lips. "I understand that he's going through something but this is affecting his health and starting to affect his work. We  _all_  need to be on top of our game right now. Pitch hasn't done anything with those bomb plans  _yet_  but that could change in an instant."

"Oh, Jack," Tooth said, shaking her head slightly. "Let me know if you need my help."

Sandy nodded, indicating that they certainly would let her know before conjuring up a dream cloud for himself to stand on. He pat the area of the cloud directly next to him, smiling at Calliope, who couldn't help but smile back. She took a seat on the cloud where Sandy had gestured.

"We'll talk to you soon, Toothiana!" Calliope said as the cloud began drifting away.

* * *

"I know why you are here and I will not be intimidated by you or your master," said the woman standing before Erato and Melpomene. She was much shorter than the pair, with porcelain skin and long, glossy black hair.

A long gown was draped over her curves, the fabric an ominous shade of red, the same pure red of fresh blood. Her lips were painted the same color.

"We're not here to intimidate anyone," Erato said calmly. The woman pursed her lips, unconvinced.

"We're here to warn you, Min," Melpomene said.

The woman laughed. "The Muse of Tragedy and the Muse of Love Poetry here to warn  _me_ of something? Are you two not a little late? Are you going to warn the rest of the Nü Gui too?"

The Muses were silent for a moment, knowing all too well that these beings were no strangers to tragedy, and for many of them love went hand-in-hand with that.

Their purpose was seeking revenge on those that had wronged them in their previous lives, after all.

It had been discussed briefly, the possibility of sending other Muses to speak with Min, who seemed to have quite a bit of influence over the others. But Melpomene worked best with these sort of beings, and Erato could charm her way out of just about anything.

So here they were, trying to get through to a spirit that was laughing in their faces.

"Pitch Black may try to make a deal with you," Melpomene said. "It's important you don't take this deal."

"Pitch Black, hm? I heard that you two had a falling out," Min said with a slight roll of the eye.

"What we had wasn't worth mourning. When it came down to it, I had to pick my sisters over him, and the decision was all too simple. Surely you can relate?" Melpomene asked, meeting Min's dark eyes.

A smile pulled at Min's lips. The Nü Gui were rather loyal to each other as well, and Melpomene knew bringing up the similar sisterhoods would work in their favor.

"Men," Min scoffed. "What deal is he looking to make?"

"He may offer you plans for a weapon. He'll tell you that you can take out huge amounts of targets at once, that you can be more powerful than you can imagine. He'll probably offer to team up with you, too. But it's all part of a bigger plan to use you as a pawn to gain his own power," Erato said.

"No good can come from any offer from him. Any deals or alliances are temporary. He will double-cross you as soon as it's beneficial for him," added Melpomene.

"That's what he did to us," Erato nodded.

"I have no use for swift means of execution. We want our victims to  _suffer_  for their misdeeds. Quick deaths are too merciful," Min said. "As far as Pitch Black goes? Let him try. I have no use for him, either."

"That's good to hear. Will you let us know if you  _do_  see him?" Melpomene asked.

"We will keep in touch. But do not mistake this agreement as a friendship, not while you are still bound to that arrogant beast," Min said, her expression going grim.

"You're going to have to be more specific, we're associated with a lot of Greek and Roman deities,  _which_  arrogant beast?" Erato asked, cocking a brow.

"Ri Gong Tai Yang Xing Jun," Min said.

_"Oh,_  Apollo," Erato said. Min nodded.

"He's sure causing us a lot of grief lately with other immortals, any idea why that is?" Melpomene asked.

Min spared only a small smile as she turned to walk away. "I think we are done here."

Erato and Melpomene exchanged glances before the other spirit disappeared from sight entirely.

"Well, that was successful?" Erato said.

"I guess. But that's the third person we've talked to that made some comment about Apollo. Usually it's just  _us_  complaining about him. Or, you know, people he's actually done something to," Melpomene said, brow furrowed.

"Between this and Athena refusing to talk to Calliope while we're under his rule… something's going on. Hopefully someone has answers next meeting," Erato said with a slight shrug.

* * *

"I have been trying to give Jack space, let him deal with this in his own time," North said, carefully sanding the edges of one of his sculptures as several elves scurried around his feet, chasing a remote control car.

"I understand that he's grieving, and believe me, I empathize," Calliope said. "But refusing to sleep is not helping him, it's not helping anyone."

"We have told him to sleep. You know Jack, he is stubborn, he does not  _listen_ ," North sighed, brushing bits of ice away from his sculpture.

A heart appeared over Sandy's head as he made a fist and slammed it into his other palm.

"He's right, tough love might be the way to go," Calliope said.

"You want to force him to sleep?" North said.

"You don't like the idea?" Calliope asked.

"It is a fine idea, it just will not be so simple to achieve," North said, chuckling slightly at the notion. Sleep deprivation was making Jack skittish, paranoid. Sneaking up on him might be a  _bit_  difficult.

"Your yetis have nabbed him before, haven't they? If they can do that again, hold him down, Sanderson can knock him out no problem," Calliope said with a shrug. Sandy nodded in agreement, more than eager to participate.

"Will have to move quickly, then he can rest in one of the guest rooms. He will not be happy," North said.

"I'm not in the business of making him happy," Calliope said with a slight smile. North nodded.

"There is one more thing," he said, turning his attention back to Sandy. "What dreams do you intend to give him?"

Sandy's face fell and a quizzical expression passed his face before he shrugged.

"The whole reason he is refusing to sleep is because he does not want to dream of Rowan and wake with her gone," North said with a frown. "Anything with playing children or Jamie Bennett would likely be a bad idea as well."

"What about a story?" Calliope asked.

"Rowan—" North started.

"She told stories, I know. Stories were her thing, but it's impossible to avoid her completely. You know as well as I that when you lose someone that close to you, suddenly the most mundane things remind you of them," Calliope said. "But stories are an escape."

Sandy nodded, images of castles, swords, ships and more appearing over his head to show all the different stories he could put in Jack's dream. Stories that would not feature Rowan Sawyer or Jamie Bennett. Stories that would hopefully provide that escape.

"Is worth a shot. Either way, he must get some rest. Hopefully he will understand that we are doing this out of a place of love," North said. "I will send some yetis to find him."

* * *

The cabin had been upgraded since the first (and last) time he brought her by. The mattress was now on an actual bed, though the base was solid; there was still no room underneath for any Boogey Man to hide. There were sheets and pillows, more shelves, even a dresser with drawers.

The fireplace remained untouched.

Drawings, photos, and newspaper clippings were still pinned to the wall.

She paced the small space, looking around as she went. Her bare feet moved silently, not a single floorboard creaking as she went. She absentmindedly braided three small strands of hair together.

"Are you going to keep ignoring me?" she said, her voice on the deeper side for a girl.

Jack sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands, clenching his teeth.

"You're not real, you're not real, you're not real," he was mumbling to himself.

This had been going on for several minutes now.

"You can't get rid of me, Jack," she said, turning to face him and leaning back against the dresser. She wore a tight, lacey black slip. "If you sleep, you'll dream of me. If you don't sleep, well…"

"Why are you here!?" he said, looking up at her desperately.

"Don't you want me here?" she asked, looking hurt.

"Not if you're not real, Rowan," he said, feeling his head pounding. "I can't get my hopes up if you're just gonna disappear again. That's why I can't sleep, because when I do, I dream of you, and then I wake up and you're gone."

"Hm, right, being so deprived of sleep that you start talking to hallucinations of your dead girlfriend is a much better alternative," Rowan said sarcastically with a nod. She adjusted the slip she wore and shook her head a bit. "You  _would_  hallucinate me in this thing, wouldn't you? I told you, Jack, this isn't a dress."

"If you're gone, I need you to stay gone, don't mess with me like this!" Jack said desperately, ignoring her comment about the slip. Had things been different, he was sure he would have found it amusing, maybe would have smiled over the memory of her in that slip.

But things weren't different.

The girl seemed unfazed, now braiding another section of her hair.

"I'm not messing with you, Jack, I'm here because your mind  _put_  me here," she said.

"But  _why?_  I need to make a clean break, I can't be getting my hopes up that you might come back or I'm not going to be able to handle it if you don't. So why am I hallucinating you now and just making things worse?" he said, blinking back tears as he rubbed the side of his head.

"Are you really asking a hallucination why nothing makes sense?" Rowan asked, walking to the bed and taking a seat beside him. The mattress, the covers, nothing shifted with her weight. "Go to  _sleep_ , Jack."

"No," he said, shaking his head.

"Why?" she asked. "It can't be worse than this, right?"

"It is, okay? Because in dreams I can  _touch_  you and it's even harder to wake up," he said. "So, no, I won't go to sleep. And I'm going to stop talking to you."

"Oh, Jack," Rowan said with a frown. "I wish I could help you. I miss you."

Jack turned to look back at her, longingly. She leaned closer to him. He closed his eyes, tilting his head slightly and longing for contact, leaning in as well.

There was no kiss.

When he opened his eyes, there was no Rowan.

He rubbed at his head again, forcing deep breaths. When he had first seen her, his heart nearly stopped and he had rushed forward to meet her. But she had changed locations quickly, disappearing and re-appearing in different parts of the cabin, sometimes shrinking in size to walk across shelves and comment on his knick-knacks.

His tired mind had figured out soon enough that she wasn't real.

Was this how she had felt when she had been sure  _he_  wasn't real?

No wonder she had cried so much.

Dreaming about her, hallucinating her, each and every time he saw her again he got his hopes up. He hoped and prayed that maybe he hadn't lost her forever.

And then he would be left alone and that sharp pain in his chest would come back, just as harsh as it had felt the first time.

It had been going on for what had felt like forever, but he still had months to go before the anniversary of her death.

He eyed the photos of her on the wall only briefly before getting up and heading for the door of the cabin. Every time he came here, every time he looked at pictures of her, it just got worse.

He would have to find somewhere else to go. There had to be somewhere he could truly be alone, without hallucinations or memories to taunt him.

Jack had barely stepped outside the cabin when he was jerked to the side, strong hands gripping his arm.

His heart raced and even after he recognized the babbling language of North's yetis, he squirmed and shouted, trying to escape their grasp. Ice shot from the end of his staff erratically, not once hitting any of the yetis, but rather freezing over a few nearby trees.

This continued for a few long seconds before everything was dark and he was left struggling inside one of North's red sacks again.


	3. This Jet-Black Feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little late but last week my brain was just not doing what I wanted it to do, writing-wise. Even editing was kind of a thing, my attention span is kind of a mess sometimes. This chapter actually wound up taking a different turn than I expected it to, but I like what happened with it. Still on the short side, still building up momentum and getting a feel for this story. You guys know me by now, they'll get longer in time.

_He knew what it was like to be told not to believe. It hurt. He wasn't about to do that to them._

* * *

**Chapter Three: This Jet-Black Feeling**

* * *

"I think I'm going to sign him up for a class at the rec center or something, he's barely leaving the house," Lorelei Bennett said, her cell phone wedged between her ear and her shoulder as she poured pasta into boiling water for the night's dinner. "The kids around the neighborhood have to come here and ask for him and I have to talk him into going out to play. It used to be that  _he_ was the one banging on everyone's doors to go on some adventure."

_"I always had to force Rowan out to play, she was content with her coloring and her stories,"_  came the voice of her sister, Dot Sawyer, from the phone.

"Usually once summer vacation hits, I have to practically drag him back inside every night. But he's mostly just been sitting in his room, going through Rowan's old notebooks and looking so, so sad," Lorelei sighed, stepping aside from the stove. She set the nearby timer.

_"I'd do the same thing if I didn't have work to distract myself. I keep thinking I should start going through her room, through all the boxes we brought back from her apartment and figure out what to do with it all but we're just not ready yet,"_  said Dot. Lorelei couldn't recall the last time she spoke to her sister without hearing that sad tone in her voice.

How Lorelei longed for the days when she and Dot had cheerful conversations, reporting on their children's accomplishments and sharing stories. She missed when the direst things they discussed were annoying coworkers or something stupid that had happened on the commute to work.

She swore that Dot had aged five years in a few months. Lorelei was sure she didn't look that great either.

"Rowan dying hit all of us hard. But it feels like there's something else going on. Even when his dad died, Jamie didn't seem so… I don't know, almost  _angry,"_  said Lorelei. "I tried getting him to talk to his school counselor but I guess he didn't talk much when he went… and he won't talk to me."

_"Well, sign him up for a class, maybe he just needs to keep busy, get his mind off everything,"_  Dot said.  _"You can always try some kind of counseling or something again later. Don't force it. Bill's finally going to see someone next week."_

Lorelei glanced toward the staircase, knowing that Jamie was upstairs in his room mulling over those notebooks again.

"He was always my happy boy that believed in everything good in the world," Lorelei said, her voice growing small as she spoke. "Through Avery's death and everything else, he could always make me smile, because he was always  _bursting_  with energy and ideas. Just like Avery. Just like Rowan. It breaks my heart to see him like this."

_"He'll bounce back. He's a strong boy,"_  Dot said.  _"Kids always bounce back from these things faster than the rest of us."_

"What if he doesn't? What if it's too much and he just shuts down? He's too young to be this unhappy," Lorelei said, blinking back tears as she adjusted her glasses.

_"It's only been a couple of months. And the circumstances were so bizarre, there's still so many questions. We all need time."_

"I'm sorry," Lorelei said, taking a deep breath. "It must be so frustrating, listening to me fret over my son when Rowan's gone."

_"No, no, don't ever stop talking to me about Jamie or Sophie. I'm here for you,"_  Dot said.  _"Although, I will admit… I miss worrying about her. I miss calling her, hearing her voice. I miss the way she'd get annoyed every time I asked her if she'd eaten that day and the way she would have to re-explain the different majors at her school to me."_

Lorelei could hear her sister sniffle on the other side of the phone. There was some fumbling and then the sound of her blowing her nose.

_"If she were still around, she'd be halfway done with her degree right now. She'd be home for the summer, working that retail job she hates and signing up for art festivals,"_  Dot said.

"Jamie would be begging me to talk to her on the phone to hear the next part of her story. Or trying to get that web cam to work again so that she could tell him over the computer. Oh, all the kids would be asking if Rowan was coming to visit again this summer, they  _adored_  her," Lorelei said with a frown.

_"She loved them too, she kept saying that one, Cupcake, was it? She kept saying that Cupcake should run for president,"_  Dot said, actually sparing a small laugh.

"I would vote for her," Lorelei said, smiling softly.

_"This is never how I saw things going for us, Lor. We were supposed to grow up, get married, have kids—"_

"Well, I mean, we  _did_  do that. Technically," Lorelei said with a sad sigh.

_"We were supposed to fall in love and grow old with that person. We were supposed to watch our kids do the same, have grandkids! And now here we are, with the shattered remains of that 'perfect family' plan."_

"No, it's not what we expected at all. Parents should never out-live their children… children shouldn't grow up without a parent. But they say what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?" Lorelei said.

_"I try to remind myself that. I try to remember that Rowan wouldn't want me feeling sorry for myself and moping around about her when I could take this and do something productive with it… but it just doesn't feel fair."_

"No. None of it is fair. For whatever reason, this is the hand we've been dealt and we have to do our best with it."

* * *

Jamie was not in his room, as Lorelei had thought. No, Jamie was sitting at the top of the stairs quietly listening in to his mother's side of the phone call, a frown fixed to his face.

He felt awful about worrying her, he truly did. Lorelei had so much to worry about, particularly since Jamie's father had died. Everything had fallen to her, keeping them fed, clothed, healthy, in school, and happy.

"Happy," was not something that could be bought, scheduled, or forced, however. Jamie wished he could just be happy like he was before, to ease his mother's mind if nothing else.

She always seemed to know when he attempted to fake a smile or a pleasant mood.

Jamie pulled himself to his feet, silently making his way back to his room, careful not to slam the door behind him. The door clicked softly into place and he walked over to the box near his bed, with "For Jamie" written on the side in permanent marker.

He began to rummage through the notebooks inside, still wondering how it was that Rowan knew to label the box in such a way.

Did she know that she was going to die?

Tears sprang to his eyes and he quickly rubbed them away.

How was he supposed to tell his mother or his friends or the school counselor that his friend, Jack Frost, had promised him that everything was going to be okay?

How was he supposed to tell them that Jack Frost had assured him that Rowan was all right and that she was going to come home safe?

How was he supposed to say that he felt betrayed because the spirit of winter had promised to protect Rowan and then didn't?

Jack had become every other grown up, with empty promises and lies told for Jamie's "own good." The only reason Jack had admitted to anything happening with the Shadow People or why Rowan had been in Burgess at all that night was because Jamie had figured out enough that lies weren't going to cut it anymore.

Jack Frost had let him down.

The Guardians had let him down.

He had believed with everything in him that they were that pure good that so often existed only in storybooks. He had believed harder than anyone else and this is what it had gotten him.

A box full of unfinished stories, and a new grave to visit in the cemetery.

He hadn't told his friends what exactly had happened, how the Guardians were involved. He didn't want them to feel that sinking, empty feeling in their stomachs when they realized that Jack and the Guardians weren't all they had thought them to be.

He knew what it was like to be told not to believe. It hurt. He wasn't about to do that to them.

As far as his mother and the pleasant school counselor with her emotion chart and stuffed animals? Jamie wasn't an idiot. He knew they would write off anything about the Guardians as an overactive imagination. He remembered all too well telling his mother about them before and having her remark that it was such a "creative story," and that he was turning out just like Rowan.

"If you were here, I could talk to you," Jamie said, finding the notebook he'd been looking for and pulling it out of the box. Rowan never thought he was silly for believing in Santa Claus or Bigfoot or ghosts.

Rowan was the only grown-up he knew that could see Jack, interact with him.

He remembered pelting Jack with a snowball when the winter spirit had come so close to kissing Rowan. He remembered the glances they gave each other after, Jack confessing that he had feelings for her.

Pippa and Cupcake used to giggle softly under their breath, whispering about Jack and Rowan until the boys asked what was so funny. They were all then treated to near swoons as the girls discussed how handsome Jack was and wondered if he and Rowan would get  _married_ , and if any of them would get invited to the ceremony.

The girls theorized that Jack and Rowan had to have kissed dozens of times, and wondered where Jack would take her on dates or if they had ever ballroom danced like in all of those fairy tale movies. Jack certainly had given her flowers before, they were sure of it.

Truly, having a couple around made the girls far more prone to giggling than Jamie had ever experienced.

But there had been a point where he had been all right with the notion of Jack and Rowan being "together forever" and marrying and everything else the girls had discussed.

They seemed very happy, but in a weird, sort of different way. He had seen both of them happy on separate occasions but there was something about the way they smiled around each other.

Jamie was sure that Rowan had trusted Jack just as much, if not more, than he had. And somehow that made it all worse.

But he couldn't help but think back to a comment Cupcake had made some time after the funeral.  _"Jack must be so sad."_

Jack  _had_  looked upset the last time Jamie had seen him. Jack had to be missing Rowan just as much as everyone else was.

But did that make everything else that had happened okay?

Jamie didn't know. All he knew was that he had spent so much time being angry at Jack that it didn't make much sense to feel anything else now.

And yet the story in this box that he kept coming back to was the one that Rowan had written with both Jack and Jamie in mind.

He opened the notebook to the first page and read the words she had so carefully written.

_Once upon a time, there was a boy named Jack. He was young, a trickster, as boys named "Jack" tended to be…_

* * *

Jack hit the ground with a thud and scrambled for his staff. He pulled himself upright, steady on his hands and knees as he felt around frantically for the opening of the bag. He had been thrown in so quickly and it was so dark that he was unsure which way he was even facing.

"Get ready!" he could hear North saying as the fabric of the bag shifted and light was finally let inside. Get ready? Get ready for  _what?_

Just what was the big idea? Jack felt betrayed, in a way, that he would be ambushed and shoved in a sack  _again._  Had the yetis dragged him back to the pole by force since the first time? Sure. But North had laid off on the sacks for most of those occasions.

And now here they were. Back at square one.

Sliding through the opening in the bag, Jack immediately jumped to his feet, feeling dizzy as he went, the entire pole a blur. He kicked off the ground, attempting to fly away, only for something to grab his ankle and pull him down.

"What the hell?!" Jack demanded, swinging his staff at the yeti that had a strong grip on his ankle still. Another yeti was quick to grab the other, effectively shackling him to the platform.

"Calm  _down_ , Jack!" Calliope said. She, Sandy and North were standing close by. This wasn't a meeting, he was sure, or more people would be here.

No, Sandy was conjuring up a large, spinning orb of dream sand.

"Did you seriously drag me here to  _make me go to sleep?"_  Jack demanded, icing over one yeti's hand and freeing one of his ankles. Another yeti appeared from seemingly nowhere to capture it again.

"We would not  _have_  to if you would sleep on your own," North scolded, arms crossed before him.

"You don't get to tell me what to do with my life, we've been  _over_  this!" Jack said, now hopelessly jabbing at the yetis with the end of his staff in the hopes of them letting go. His head was pounding.

The yetis seemed mildly annoyed, if anything, still keeping a tight grip on him. It was clear that this was far from the most obnoxious or difficult thing they had to deal with in their time working with North.

"Jack, this is for your own good, do not make things harder than they need to be," North said.

"Well, that  _is_  sort of his M.O.," Calliope commented.

"Date  _one_  mortal," Jack scoffed. "Let me  _go,_  I can handle this!"

Sandy raised a brow, skeptical of this statement.

"Sandy will not give you dreams about Rowan, Jack, it will be okay," North said, trying to reason with the boy.

"No, it won't, because I'm seeing her when I'm awake now, too! I was hallucinating her a few minutes ago,  _nothing is okay!"_  Jack said, starting to sound desperate the longer this went on. His movements were growing sluggish, so much of his limited energy spent in panic when he was tossed into the sack.

He just wanted to go somewhere else, anywhere else. He'd figure out where that was when he got there.

"If you're hallucinating, you  _need_  to sleep," Calliope said, sounding concerned.

"You're not my parents, leave me the  _hell_  alone!" Jack snapped. "I'm not a child, I don't need your protecting!"

"He is too exhausted to be reasoned with, I told you this would not be easy," North said, shaking his head. "Sandy?"

Sandy tossed the orb of dream sand Jack's way and he ducked, quickly, dodging it. Jack barely had a chance to feel victorious before a third yeti grabbed at his arm, pulling him down even further.

Sandy threw another orb. This one did not miss, hitting Jack square in the face.

His staff clattered against the floor and he fell limp in the yetis' grips. As North stepped forward to take Jack from them, a few elves rushed over to the staff, eyes sparkling with mischief and curiosity.

Their attempts to retrieve the staff were thwarted, however, as Calliope stepped forward and picked it up herself.

North cradled Jack in his arms, dream sand twisting above the boy's head. "How long can you keep him out?" North asked Sandy as they began to walk toward one of the guest rooms.

Charts and graphs appeared above Sandy's head, all educated guesses at an average amount of hours. In the end, however, the small man seemed to think that Jack was so sleep deprived that he might be asleep for quite a while anyway.

"Hallucinations, though," Calliope tsked. "Suppose those will go away once he's had a decent sleep?"

Sandy nodded, holding open the door to the guest room.

"Well, that is good," North said, stepping inside. Calliope walked across the room, closing the thick curtains over the window. It was summer now, which meant that it was light almost all the time this far north.

North set Jack carefully in the bed, pulling the blankets over his sleeping form although he knew that the boy didn't need them. Jack shifted in his sleep, seeming to reach his arm out for something, only for it to fall flat.

North frowned at the sight as Calliope propped Jack's staff against the wall near the bed. "Hm. One moment," he said, stepping outside the room.

Calliope cast Sandy a quizzical look. Sandy shrugged.

A short while later, North returned with what appeared to be a life-size stuffed emperor penguin toy. The man had a smile on his face, looking nothing short of triumphant.

"Why do you have a penguin?" Calliope asked.

"Something to hold on to," North said, stepping over to the bed. He gently lifted Jack's arm before sliding the stuffed penguin underneath it.

The boy shifted again, his grip tightening on the toy.

"Well, if that's not the most adorable version of Jack Frost I've ever seen," Calliope said with a smile. Sandy was covering his mouth in an attempt to hide silent laughter. "I wish I had a camera."

"Come, come," North said, gesturing to the door. "We let him sleep."

The other two nodded, stepping past North and out to the rest of the Pole. North glanced back at Jack again and sighed slightly, reaching forward to ruffle the sleeping boy's hair.

"I know," North said softly. "Sleeping alone is one of the harder parts."

And with that, North stepped out of the room, softly closing the door behind him.


	4. Stuck in the Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M ALIVE. Hi, guys, hello, I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update, I really am. Are you ready for excuses? Okay, here we go. The sparknotes version is that I have had crazy creative block and could not bring myself to draw or write for a while. Elaborating more, I'm still looking for work with absolutely no luck which is a great, great motivation killer. I also had some heath things going on, which basically amounted to taking a bunch of tests to confirm that I have seasonal allergies (but apparently really bad ones). So, yeah, I am very sorry it's taken this long to update but I've just been... so unable to focus on this or any other creative venture for the past few weeks.

_Jack could easily tell himself that, try to believe it because it was nice to think. But in the back of his mind he would just end up wondering if it was, in fact, true at all._

* * *

**Chapter Four: Stuck in the Past**

* * *

With a flash of light, Clio appeared in her workshop, dark circles beneath her brown eyes and her normally impeccable ringlets askew. She plopped down at the table beside Bunny, who was fiddling with some half-finished contraption that she had left there.

"So, where were you? Or, should I say,  _when_  were you?" Bunny inquired.

Time travel was a tricky business. Clio appeared to have only been gone for a few seconds. Honestly, she had no way to truly calculate how long she had spent jumping around the timeline, observing different events over and over, as though rewinding an old tape.

She could never interact with anyone or anything. No one knew she was visiting. She could only watch and try to learn.

"Dark ages," Clio said, having not specified what her plan was when she had hastily told him she was leaving for a time.

She watched as Bunny continued to make adjustments to the device in his paws. Had it been anyone else and any of her other inventions, she'd have been furious that he was handling it without asking first. But this particular item was a collaboration.

An attempt to neutralize another invention of theirs that was no longer in their possession.

"Again?" said Bunny. "You're going to drive yourself mad, watching that happen over and over."

"What if I missed something? Some kind of pattern in Pitch's behavior, some secret ally he might try to reconnect with now?" Clio asked, rubbing the sides of her head and groaning softly.

"I told you, Pitch doesn't collaborate much. He sticks to his minions. Most mythical beings don't care to associate with him, even his daughter wants nothing to do with him," Bunny said. "The only thing that's changed now is that he's got one hell of a bargaining chip."

"Melpomene associated with him," Clio pointed out.

"Melpomene is the personification of tragedy. And an instigator," said Bunny, setting the device down.

Clio snorted. "You don't have to tell  _me._  The thing is, Melpomene isn't the only one like her, she's not the only one that wouldn't bat an eye at spending time with the Boogey Man. She's just the only one that was on our side the whole time."

"Would have been useful if we had  _known_  she was on our side the whole time," Bunny mumbled, reaching for some blueprints and pulling them over to take a closer look.

"We've already talked to her about communicating with us more. She's going to try but it goes against her nature, it's like she's programmed to put the most tragic outcome in motion whether she knows it or not," Clio said, shaking her head.

Bunny made a noncommittal noise in response. It was no secret that Bunny wasn't a big fan of at least half of Clio's sisters.

There were times she didn't really blame him.

"Do you think Mother Nature would have any insight?" Clio asked.

"Sandy can try to talk to her but I don't think it'll help. They're not close, she only intervenes in his plans when it benefits her somehow," Bunny said, eying the blueprints carefully. "I still say this should have been more of an elliptical shape."

"You mean an  _egg_  shape. You and I both know it's not practical," Clio said, rolling her eyes. "And, well, the bomb is capable of causing a lot of damage, to man-made structures  _as well as_  natural ones, so surely she'd be concerned?"

"That's true, I'll mention it to Sandy next I see him," Bunny said. "And an egg shape is almost always practical."

Clio couldn't help but laugh slightly. She and Bunny had been friends for centuries and she wasn't quite sure how many times they had this debate over egg shapes.

"Speaking of natural structures, I am just about done with the tunnels," Bunny said.

"Oh?" Clio said, eyes lighting up as she stood from her seat and walked over to a newly-installed door on the other side of the room. Pulling it open, she revealed a tunnel, tall, wide, and deep. She couldn't gauge how far it went from here, as the light from her workshop only went so far. "Oh it already looks better. What else is there left to do before we can start construction?"

"Just a few more of the pockets you wanted for the rooms, I've been digging on my down time," Bunny said. "Honestly, I can't believe it's taken you all this long to make some kind of home base for all of you."

"The Muses are nomadic, we go where creative people are," Clio said, grabbing a hand-crank operated flashlight from the nearby shelf of knickknacks and turning the handle to take a better look at the tunnel. "I only built this place because I needed somewhere to work and store my things. But we should have a safe place to come back to. An  _actual_  home that belongs to us."

"Are you  _sure_  this is the best place to put it? I know the workshop's already here but there are other mountains to tunnel through, mountains that don't have as many mortals hanging around," Bunny pointed out.

"You know how important Mount Parnassus is to us," Clio said, letting go of the flashlight to lovingly pat the nearby stone lining the tunnel. "We were all reborn here. People worshiped us here."

"And Dionysus and Apollo. They won't be upset?" Bunny said.

"Apollo wants us safe. Once I figure out the magic to protect this place, we'll be incredibly safe here. And Dionysus will be fine as long as we invite him to the housewarming party," Clio said with a shrug.

Bunny stifled a laugh. "How's the, uh, magic going?"

Clio pursed her lips at the pooka's laugh. "I'm getting better! I didn't train with a wizard like North did! It's not all that different than machinery, it's just… It's got a learning curve. I've almost got the portals right, then we can stop borrowing North's."

She gestured to a basket in the corner, full of small snow globes, all containing various disastrous scenes rather than the tranquil snowfall seen in North's snow globes.

"If you say so," Bunny smiled.

"How's the Frost situation going?" Clio asked, clearly eager to change the subject from the issues she was having with one of her many tasks.

"Last I saw him, he still hadn't slept. I keep telling North, eventually he'll just collapse from exhaustion and we won't have to worry about it anymore," Bunny shrugged.

"I think Calliope wants to knock him out," Clio said, "But I haven't talked to her very recently. Or, perhaps it just feels that way. My perception of time gets a little boggled when I've been going back and forth."

"He won't like that, I say just let the kid wear himself out and he'll sleep soon enough," Bunny said. "He'll figure out he can't just keep doing what he's doing."

"Well, I would hope so," Clio said. She and Bunny looked up suddenly at the sound of three sharp knocks on her front door. Clio walked across the room and glanced through the peephole carefully.

"Hm. Well, Calliope and Sanderson are here, I hope they've got good news," she said.

* * *

Erato reached for the roses meticulously placed in her hair, patting them carefully to be sure they hadn't become askew while traveling through the portal that brought her to the busy North Pole. The sound of toys being tested and yetis babbling in their native tongue had become something of a comfort over the past few months.

She and Polyhymnia had been placed at the pole until the Shadow People were taken care of. At that point, they were clear to leave. Polyhymnia graciously had done so, going about her usual business.

Erato, however, had chosen to stay, still occupying the room that had been given to her. She liked it here; she liked having somewhere to come back to.

Clio was working on a home base for the Muses to serve that purpose, which was a great idea, it truly was.

But something about the pole just felt like home.

"Some day I'll get used to traveling by snow globe," Erato muttered once her hair was adjusted. She was ready to walk toward her room when she saw North rubbing the side of his head as he watched the globe turn slowly.

"Something troubling you, Nicky?" Erato asked, approaching the man, her heels clicking as she walked.

She could see him blush slightly beneath his beard and Erato couldn't help but smile. He still got bashful about the name she insisted on calling him.

"Calliope and Sandy were just here," he said with a slight sigh.

"Oh, did they tell you about Athena? Mel and I ran into them on our way to talk to Min," Erato said.

"Yes, but also discussed Jack," North said. "He is sleeping in one of the guest rooms."

"So you finally got him to sleep! That's great," Erato said. North didn't exactly look thrilled about this development, however.

"More like, we  _made_  him sleep," North said.

Erato winced. "Oh, he's not going to be happy about that when he wakes up, is he?"

North shook his head. "No. Is for his own good, though. He was hallucinating."

"Poor boy. He's really broken up over Rowan," Erato said, shaking her head slightly. She watched North carefully, his eyes still fixed on the globe. She remembered the man after Yelena had passed, quiet and burying himself in his work.

Or, at least that's what Erato had seen. She had no idea how he had dealt with it when she wasn't around.

"I just do not want him to distance himself further when he wakes up," North said.

"Jack's like you, he's stubborn," Erato said, setting a hand to North's arm in what she hoped was a comforting way. "He'll be mad that you made him do something he didn't want to do. But he's not an idiot, North, he knows this is all out of love."

"I hope so," North said.

"I know so. He's lucky to have you around while he's going through this, whether he realizes it right now or not. And believe me, ninety-nine out of a hundred times, they'll never actually admit you were right," Erato said, offering the man a smile.

North smiled in return. "No, they certainly won't… have you heard from your son?"

"I haven't!" Erato said with a short, frustrated sigh. "He's been making himself scarce ever since he broke his wing. When I  _have_  seen him, he's always in a rush to go somewhere else. I told him to just take it easy while his wing heals but… well, it would seem I  _surround_  myself with stubborn men."

North chuckled slightly. "What does that say about you?"

"Maybe I like a challenge," she smiled.

* * *

Jack Frost was not short on dreams; the Sandman had made sure of that. If left to his own devices, his tired, mournful mind would have conjured up its own images to haunt him with.

Instead, whimsical stories played through his mind, one after another.

Pirates, princes, princesses, dragons, fairies and wizards! Epic quests and grand rescues! Magic spells and great battles!

Some of the stories felt familiar, others were new. But even as he slumbered, these images passing through his mind and twirling through the dream sand above his head, Jack couldn't help but feel that something was missing.

Stories and characters seemed to blend into each other, as was often the case in dreams. By the time he opened his eyes, everything was mostly a blur of happy endings and nice, neat, resolutions.

The first time he forced his lids open, his eyes stung in protest and he closed them immediately, burying his face in the soft whatever it was he was curled up next to. What  _was_  he curled up next to, clinging to for dear life?

He groaned slightly, torn between wanting to know where he was and what he was holding on to, and not wanting to open his eyes again. He could  _feel_  that his eyes were bloodshot and strained still. His head was heavy and lifting it from the pillow seemed like it would take more effort than he had ever put forward before in his life.

How long had he been out for?

Yawning, Jack forced open his eyes again, finding a stuffed emperor penguin beside him. He furrowed his brow as he eyed the plush toy, first confused at its presence before clenching his teeth and shoving it away, not bothering to watch as it fell off the edge of the bed.

He knew what the stuffed penguin was for. It was meant to be some kind of stand-in, a substitute, a device to be used to cope with the absence of what he had habitually begun to reach for whenever he happened to fall asleep.

But the stuffed penguin only served to occupy space in his arms. He couldn't listen to it breathe or feel its wrist for a pulse and take solace in the fact that it was alive. It gave off no body heat. It didn't whine softly in protest whenever the alarm went off in the morning.

Teeth still clenched, Jack rolled so that he was face-down on the bed, pulling a pillow over his head in the hopes of pretending that he wasn't actually here in one of North's guest rooms throwing a stuffed animal aside as though it had just offended him on a deep, personal level.

He let out a frustrated groan, muffled by the mattress.

This had to be some kind of new low point, Jack supposed. Here he was, lying in bed, being angry that a stuffed penguin was not Rowan Sawyer.

Here he was, being forced to go to sleep because he was  _hallucinating_  Rowan Sawyer after avoiding sleep because he kept  _dreaming_  about Rowan Sawyer.

Here he was, being given dreams that had nothing at all to do with Rowan Sawyer but  _still reminded him of Rowan Sawyer._

Stories in general would never be the same because he couldn't think of stories without thinking of the way her eyes would light up when she would tell one, the way she'd make wild gestures with her hands, the way she would get so excited she'd have to stop suddenly to breathe because she'd forgotten to in her haste to tell the next part.

He couldn't think of grand adventures without thinking of the ones she made up for those fictional characters she loved so much and the ones that they had gone on and hoped to go on. Inching out from beneath the pillow, Jack glanced back to where the penguin had previously been, remembering that he had promised to take her Antarctica to see real ones.

He couldn't think of happy endings without thinking of the fact that they hadn't gotten one.

They were doomed from the start. Star-crossed.  _Courting a mortal is a terrible idea!_  There was never a happy ending lined up for them.

She was always going to die first, way too soon.

It just wasn't supposed to be  _this_  soon,  _this_ way.

Dreaming dreams without Rowan still managed to leave him ready to break down over her when he woke up.

This was supposed to get easier at some point, wasn't it?

When the hell was that point?

He sat upright, forcing deep breaths as he closed his eyes tight to hold back tears. He was determined to be through crying over this. It was clear he wasn't through missing her or being upset that she wasn't around, but hell if he was going to cry any more about it.

He had gone  _centuries_  without crying and some mortal girl with an overactive imagination had ruined everything.

Jack wondered if she knew how much he missed her, how much her family missed her, how often strangers still left things at her grave. The Muses insisted there was, in fact, an afterlife, but none of them could remember it.

So was there one? Was she there? Did she still think about her stories, did she still daydream about what would happen next?

It just didn't seem fair that all her work would just end with her.

But then again, nothing about any of this was the least bit fair.

He lived in a world where he knew with complete certainty that Santa Claus, the Sandman, and the Greek Muses existed, and yet no one could tell him with certainty what happened when the life left someone's body.

He remembered Rowan asking, the disappointment in her eyes when he had told her that he could not remember.

All Jack had wanted at the time was for her to focus on anything besides death. Why worry yourself with such things?

But now he wanted to know, too.

She had wanted to know in an attempt to be prepared for what her anxious mind was certain was her quickly approaching death. He wanted to know because he wanted to know how she was.

People always said that those that died were no longer in pain; that they were at rest with all their days of suffering left behind.

It was a nice sentiment.

Jack could easily tell himself that, try to believe it because it was nice to think. But in the back of his mind he would just end up wondering if it was, in fact, true at all.

No one here was going to give him an answer, and as Jack forced himself out of bed, kicking off the covers, he cringed at the thought of talking to the Guardians or the Muses about this anyway.

Jack wasn't going to get closure by staying here, by watching his friends give him those sympathetic looks and forcing him to sleep for his "own good."

He wasn't going to get closure by hiding out in his cabin and refusing to sleep until he started seeing things, either.

Grabbing his staff, Jack thought he knew what he had to do, starting with getting the hell out of here.

With a slight grunt, he opened the heavy window and climbed through.


	5. Friends On The Other Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Friday! Check me out, I didn't take an obscene amount of time to update this time, wooo! Chapter five, longest chapter thus far. I also break my streak of "Haven't said the F-word yet" in this chapter. But if you consider that Something Quite Peculiar was 64 chapters, that means I went 68 chapters without using it, which is really impressive. No, really, it is, that is my favorite swear word. Anyway, the character that uses it in this chapter is one of my favorites, I'm glad I was able to bring him back for this, and I feel like it's appropriate that he's the one to break my streak. I hope you enjoy it.

_"People are always associating death with evil, but it's not evil. Death is natural. Death, Boy, is beautiful."_

* * *

**Chapter Five: Friends On The Other Side**

* * *

"Knock-knock!" Thalia announced, appearing out of thin air with Euterpe clinging to her arm.

"You know, saying that does not excuse the fact that you did not actually knock," Arachne said, her numerous eyes never leaving the dress form in front of her as she carefully pinned the fabric.

"Oh, what are you so concerned about? Afraid I might show up unannounced and barge in on you with your  _other_  girlfriend?" Thalia said scandalously. She approached the redhead and leaned over to kiss her cheek. Arachne's mouth twitched into a smile involuntarily, eyes still fixed on the dress form as she attempted to play it off as though Thalia had no affect on her.

"I just like having some kind of warning is all," Arachne said.

"I'm sorry, Ara, I thought Thalia would have given you a heads-up," Euterpe said, rocking on her heels awkwardly.

"Well I knew  _you_  were coming today," Arachne said. With one of her free arms, she gestured toward the coral-colored gown on another dress-form. "I've just got a few finishing touches and it'll be done."

Euterpe approached the gown, running her fingers along the skirt with a slight frown. "It looks really pretty, thank you."

"You don't seem thrilled," Arachne said, finally tearing her eyes away from her current project.

"Well, you know it's not really my style recently," Euterpe said. Arachne had gotten used to incorporating a lot of leather and studs in Euterpe's clothing in the past few decades. The youngest Muse still sported facial piercings and a fauxhawk.

The dress on the dress form was considerably more conservative, and not the least bit rock n' roll.

"Calliope said we all need something nice to wear just in case we have to negotiate with someone particularly judge-y," Thalia said with a roll of the eye.

"When this is all done, by all means, take a pair of scissors to it, make it more…  _you_ ," Arachne said.

"You'd be all right with that?" Euterpe said, cocking a brow.

"Just bring me back the scraps so I can put them to use," Arachne said with a shrug. "How  _are_  the negotiations going, anyway?"

"Dead ends, mostly," Euterpe said.

"Half of the people we talk to suddenly won't associate with us as long as we're associated with Apollo," Thalia elaborated. "And a good deal of the other half say they're only in  _as long_  as we're still associated with him."

"Apollo has always been polarizing," Arachne said. "What side is  _Athena_  on?"

"Anti-Apollo, last I heard," Euterpe said.

"Well between that and the fact that you all continue to associate with me, you might want to give up on her," Arachne said with a shrug.

"We know you don't like her, Ara, but it's better to have her on our side than not," Thalia said.

_"She_ has the problem with  _me,"_  Arachne mumbled as though talking about Athena left a bitter taste in her mouth.

_"Anyway,_  are you and Anansi on good terms?" Thalia asked.

"Well, I mean, we're not on  _bad_  terms," Arachne said, clearly puzzled. "Why?"

"Because Calliope said that if Jack doesn't get his shit together,  _I'm_  going to have to talk to all the trickster gods and that is a  _lot_  of pressure! They're  _tricksters!_  I already told Calliope she's going to have to go with me to make sure they don't try to pull a fast one on us and I thought maybe you could be some help with Anansi if I have to talk with him," Thalia said.

"I mean, I can try. I  _think_  he's mostly over trying to trick me. He said it wasn't any fun anymore," Arachne said. "Are you not considered a trickster?"

"No, I like a practical joke as much as the next person but I'm just the personification of comedy. Which means it would probably be  _hilarious_  if they tricked me, but not beneficial to us at all," Thalia said with a slight pout.

"Unfortunately the trickster spirit on our team is… well, not living up to that title right now," Euterpe said. "It's really sad, actually. I don't think he's even made a sarcastic comment at the recent meetings."

"He hasn't even  _gone_  to a few of them," Thalia said.

"Jack's in no state to try and out-trick another trickster," Euterpe said. "No one even knows where he is."

"Calliope, Sandy, and North knocked him out finally and he was out for basically two days before he up and left," Thalia explained. Arachne shook her head.

"What a mess," the designer said. "Maybe if you're lucky, Pitch doesn't want to deal with the tricksters either, then it won't matter."

"Well, there's still Jack's mental state," Euterpe sighed, gently swaying the fluffy skirt of the dress side to side with her hand. "I think he really needs a friend right now."

"Well, he and Cupid went out and harassed people with rejection arrows on Valentine's Day, so there's that," Thalia shrugged. "He's been acting weird lately too."

"Right? He hasn't even  _talked_  to Tooth since January, which doesn't make  _any_  sense," Euterpe said.

"Well, he had a crush on her from afar for  _centuries_  and then they finally start talking again in the middle of a very tense situation… perhaps she didn't live up to the idea he had of her," Arache suggested.

"Maybe, and I mean she did get pretty suspicious of him when Pitch suggested that he might be a traitor but I didn't figure he'd hold a grudge over that, especially since she apologized and we all know how protective she is of her fairies," Thalia said. "But before all that, at the ball and everything, I really thought they were getting close."

"He's barely talking to any of  _us_  either, though, like he'll check in with Erato just because he knows she'll worry first but I swear he won't look me in the eye the last few times I saw him," said Euterpe.

"Hmph, sounds like a guilty conscious to me," Arachne commented, returning her attention to her dress form. "But, that's just an observation."

* * *

Clear, blue waves sparkled in the summer sun, warm and inviting and entirely unprepared for what was coming next. Flying low, Jack dragged his staff and feet along the surface, smiling as the water froze in abstract shapes.

The ice quickly began to melt as he continued forward, riding the icy slopes he created and tasting the salt in the air. It had been months since he had last visited a beach.

He actually really enjoyed beaches and oceans. He loved the shapes the waves would make when frozen, and Mother Nature never got mad at him as long as that ice melted without anyone noticing.

Not to mention, those that visited the beach in the summer were almost always having a good time. They were on vacation. They were having  _fun_.

He couldn't make it snow but the energy was nice to be around, to observe from a spot in the shade where the heat wouldn't be as intense.

The Guardians surely wouldn't think to look for him here, at least not right away. North had eyes everywhere, after all, and would find out his whereabouts soon enough.

Hopefully Jack would be long gone, or at least more prepared to deal with the others, by then.

As Jack reached the beach, he stepped lightly on the hot sand and raised a hand to block the sun from his eyes. A breeze rippled through the trees and people could be heard not far off going about their business.

Jack hadn't thought this through. There was nothing guaranteeing who he was looking for would even be here, or where specifically on this island he should even look.

For all Jack knew, this spirit wouldn't even  _talk_  to him.

Where would he even start?

He found a dirt path and walked along it, keeping his eyes open for anything that might help him find what he was looking for. He should have stopped by a library, done some research before just rushing straight here.

He sighed, leaning against a nearby wooden fence.

Maybe he was still sleep deprived. Maybe this was a terrible idea.

What did he really expect to get out of this?

He wasn't sure how long he had been leaning there, considering his options, before he was startled by a black mass jumping from the plants nearby and landing on the fence beside him. His mind flashed back immediately to the black masses that were the Shadow People, reaching out for their victims and quickly consuming them. He spun around quickly, his staff at the ready and heart racing.

He felt both stupid and annoyed to find that it was just a rooster. He quickly remembered that it was the middle of the day and the few remaining Shadow People would be hiding. He lowered his staff, breathing heavily as he watched the bird that had frightened him.

Covered in glossy black feathers, the bird cawed at him before fluttering down from the fence and making its way down the path. It turned back, as though to see if Jack was still there.

Jack watched the bird, baffled and still annoyed, as it cawed at him again, seeming impatient.

"You… want me to follow you," Jack said, feeling silly. The bird simply turned and continued down the path.

Was he really going to follow a rooster?

Jack briefly wondered just how terribly this could end up, and quickly realized he had no other plan. The boy sighed and followed the bird.

At least it wasn't a Shadow Person.

The rooster bobbed its head as it went, clucking softly, happily if that was at all possible. Jack ducked below low branches and looked around for any other form of life as he went.

What he found when he followed the bird around the next corner was quite the opposite. It was an old cemetery, quite full. There were several other black roosters settled around the area, seeming content to perch themselves on tombstones, almost all of which were marked with crosses.

The bird he had been following walked through the gates and Jack swallowed before stepping inside too, his grip tightening on his staff as he went.

For a moment, Jack was inclined to believe there was nothing out of the ordinary about this cemetery. It had tombstones with names engraved on the surface; it was older so the plants had been free to grow without being cut back.

But then the rooster brought him to a bench where a woman was lounging near a pepper plant. Her hair was long and red, and she was dressed in shades of purple. When shadows fell across her fair skin, Jack swore they took on the appearance of bones.

Or perhaps it was his eyes playing tricks on him. The more he looked, the more confused he became.

"Hello there, Jack Frost," she said, a seductive smile pulling at her lips as soon as she saw him. She had a slight Irish accent. "You're a bit far from home, aren't you?"

"A bit," Jack said. She plucked a pepper from the plant, setting it to her lips and biting into it without so much as wincing. She chewed slowly, eyes scanning him up and down.

"Poor Dearie, are you lost? Do stay a while. I hear you like fun," she purred, pulling herself to her feet. "I like fun myself, and the crowd I run with is rather…  _livelier_  than one might expect."

"I'm, um, I'm actually here looking for someone," Jack said nervously. It seemed that his discomfort only encouraged her as she stepped behind him and set a hand to either one of his shoulders. The woman set her cheek to his as her thumbs kneaded into his jacket.

She smelt of tobacco, rum, and hot peppers. Her cheek was unusually warm.

"You found  _me_ , didn't you?" she said. Jack shrugged out of her grasp, turning to face her. She seemed unamused by this action.

"Do you know where I can find Baron Samedi?" Jack asked.

"He said you weren't interested at the ball, change your mind?" she asked. "Letting yourself be a bit curious now that you're single?"

"What? No, I just want to talk to him," Jack said, shaking his head.

"A bit defensive, are we? Nothing to be ashamed of. I had my suspicions at the ball when you and Eros went off to the balcony to 'talk privately.' It's no secret that  _he_ isn't picky. He  _and_  his mother. But those Greek deities, they have a reputation, you know," the woman said casually. Jack couldn't remember seeing her at the ball, but judging by her behavior and what he remembered Terpsichore and Euterpe saying, this had to be Baron Samedi's wife.

"I really just need to talk to the Baron," Jack said, beginning to get frustrated.

"Really?" she said skeptically.

"Really," Jack said.

"What is it that Baron Samedi can give you that Maman Brigitte," she gestured to herself, "cannot? Aside from—"

"This has nothing to do with sex!" Jack said quickly. "I have some questions about… well, the afterlife."

"Do you think he's the only Death Loa there is?" she asked, crossing her arms.

"I honestly don't know much about it," Jack said sheepishly.

"Well, he's not. Do you know how many graves have been dedicated to  _me?_  Well—" Brigitte began before a deep, raspy chuckle cut her off.

"Jealous, are we?" From the shadows emerged a tall, thin figure, donned in a top hat. His face was painted to resemble a skull. He pulled a cigar from his lips in order to take a sip of the glass in his other hand. Before replacing the cigar, he leaned over to kiss the side of Brigitte's neck. "You can't fault the boy for finding  _me_  more appealing."

Brigitte scoffed, taking the drink from his hand. Before he had a chance to protest, she threw her head back and drained the glass.

"He doesn't know better," she said, setting the glass back in Baron Samedi's hand.

"He must have good instincts," Baron Samedi said, eying the empty glass with a frown. "Bitch."

"Bastard," she retorted.

"Harlot," he replied.

"Wanker!"

"Hussy!"

"Arse! Bastard-Wanker-Arse!"

"I love you, too," Baron Samedi said, sounding almost bored, pouring himself a new glass of rum from a bottle that had appeared from seemingly nowhere. Jack's brow furrowed, unsure how to feel about the exchange he had just witnessed.

Maman Brigitte rolled her eyes and reached forward to grab the collar of Jack's hoodie. Before he could protest, she pulled him in closer and set her mouth to his ear. "You let me know if you grow tired of him."

"Well  _you_ haven't," Baron Samedi said to his wife, blowing a ring of smoke in her direction.

"Not yet," she said with a chuckle before walking off into the shadows. She seemed to vanish, her laugh echoing eerily as she went.

"Marriage," Baron Samedi said with a shrug.

"Right…" Jack said, both incredibly curious about how the hell Baron Samedi and Maman Brigitte's marriage worked at all, and feeling as though he might not want to actually know any of the details.

"Anyway, I know why you're here and you are wasting your time, Frost," Baron Samedi said, leaning against a large tombstone nearby before flicking ash off the end of his cigar. It landed on the head of one of the roosters nearby, startling it.

"For the love of—I don't want to have sex with you  _or_  your wife!" Jack said, exasperated.

The skeletal man laughed, "Not what I meant. The boy doth protest too much."

"Well, then what?" Jack asked. Maybe the Baron somehow knew that Jack had come by to ask about the afterlife. Perhaps death deities were not in the business of discussing the affairs of the dead with the living and he was giving Jack a heads-up that he wouldn't be any help.

Although, honestly, Jack was beginning to wonder why he thought the Baron would be any help in the first place.

"We've seen you all running around, chatting everyone up for your little PR campaign. Heard whispers that the Boogeyman's got some doomsday device," Baron Samedi said. "Y'all must have fucked up  _big time_  to be scrambling like this."

Jack couldn't argue there.

"Not gonna lie, I'm looking forward to seeing what exactly you did to mess up so bad you came running to us less savory beings," the Baron continued, chuckling as he took a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, holding it out to Jack in offering.

Jack shook his head to decline. The Baron took a cigarette from the package and plopped it between Jack's lips anyway, swiftly lighting it.

The winter spirit took in a sharp breath in surprise, resulting in nothing but smoke in his lungs. He pulled the cigarette away and coughed immediately, sure he looked completely ridiculous. It had to be painfully obvious that he didn't smoke.

Rowan had been able to at least fake it, as he recalled. A result of having gone to art school, he assumed. There were always groups of people smoking there.

"Hopefully it doesn't come to that," Jack said, still choking as he spoke.

"Don't get me wrong, St. Nick knows how to throw a shindig and I do enjoy those Muses,  _particularly_  the sexy mortal ones, but my family won't be taking sides in whatever you've got going on," Baron Samedi said. "Nothing personal."

Jack cleared his throat now that his coughing had calmed. "Not even Pitch's side, hm?"

"Why, because he's promising death and destruction and fear?" Baron Samedi asked, taking a long drag of his cigar. "What good does that do me?"

"Death is… kind of your thing, right?" Jack said.

"Sure it is! But why would  _I_ want to kill anyone? Kid, there are seven  _billion_  people on this planet and every single one of them is going to die. I don't need to go out of my way to help them along, thousands will die today, before even this  _conversation_  is through," said the Baron. He leaned his head back and lazily blew more rings of smoke into the air. Jack still held his cigarette to the side, not smoking it, but afraid if he put it out that he would just be given another.

"I suppose that's true," Jack said.

"People are always associating death with  _evil_ , but it's not evil. Death is  _natural_. Death, Boy, is  _beautiful_ ," Baron Samedi said, his tone proud. "Those who wish to do evil seek to use death for their own gain, of course. They hope to harness the power death has over the living. Death is terrifying because it is uncontrollable and, in most cases, final. But that is also why it is beautiful

"When you give in to the things you cannot control, when you accept that something has reached its conclusion, when you no longer fear what you do not know,  _that_  is beautiful. Death is a thing that can be beautiful and tragic and freeing and heartbreaking and ugly and horrible and a release all at once. It is not evil. It is a thing that makes equals out of all of us. So, no. My family will not be taking sides. We have no interest in either helping or preventing the inevitable. We are decidedly neutral, just as death is. You'd be hard-pressed to find any other death spirit that didn't take that stance."

Jack nodded along as the Baron spoke. While the man was clearly no stranger to parties and throwing caution (and manners) to the wind, it was obvious that he knew what he was talking about, and was quite serious and very passionate about his purpose in this world.

"I understand, I'll keep that in mind. But, um, I actually wasn't here to talk to you about taking sides at all, you see," Jack said sheepishly. How awkward to say after such an impassioned speech.

Baron Samedi sighed, glaring at Jack. "Well,  _what_  then?"

"I was hoping to talk to you about Rowan Sawyer," Jack said.

"The Mortal Muse!" Any annoyance in the Baron's face was immediately wiped away as his eyes lit up at the mention of her name. "She was fun, she knew how to drink. I heard that she died, good for her."

Jack winced.  _Good for her?_  He shook his head, urging himself to remember who he was talking to.

"Yeah, um, yeah she did," he said, his voice growing smaller against his will. He cleared his throat and avoided eye contact. "I, um, well no one I've spoken with that's died can remember an afterlife, and I just… I was wondering if you could tell me if there is one and if she's there, if you've seen her, how she is?"

"Of course there's an afterlife," Baron Samedi scoffed, as though it was by far the stupidest question he had ever been asked. "Why would there be so many death spirits wandering about if everything just stopped?"

"I don't know, why is there a personification of Groundhog Day?" Jack sighed.

"Good point. Anyway, it's natural not to remember the other side if you've been there and back and aren't a death spirit of some kind," the Baron said with a shrug. "Some mortals remember bits and pieces, immortals usually don't. Probably because they'd want to go back if they did."

"That's what Polyhymnia says," said Jack.

"She's a smart lady. Giant prude, hate talking to her, terrible company, but she's a smart lady," Baron Samedi nodded. "Anyway, your lovely mortal girlfriend has, indeed, crossed over. I told her at the ball that she would like being dead, but she didn't believe me, the living hardly ever do."

"So… she's okay?" Jack said.

"Most everyone there is, Kid. When you're dead there's nothing to worry about anymore. Oh but that doesn't stop her from worrying about the people still here. They watch, you know, they like watching. Lots of them worry about the people they left behind like it's worth it to be stressed out when you're dead and can't do anything about it," the Baron shook his head slightly at the notion. Jack's heart ached as he remembered telling Rowan numerous times not to worry so much when she was alive. "But she's happy. You don't hurt over there."

"So, she's happy, but she worries," Jack said, torn between being pleased that he had some kind of answer and being, well, somewhat unsatisfied with it.

"Yes. Now, I'm not a messenger, so don't go thinking because I told you this you're gonna start getting detailed reports. I don't got time for that, you know how many souls there are over there?" Baron Samedi said, taking another drag of his cigar. "Happy, but worries. It's pretty standard-issue."

"Right, right," Jack said. "Is, um, is that all, though?"

"If you wanna know if she's coming back, that's not something I can tell, you gotta take it up with Apollo," he said, gesturing to the sun shining down above them. "Otherwise, that's it. Like I said, I'm not a messenger and I don't intend to be."

"Well, um, thanks, really. This helps, I think," Jack said. Shouldn't he be happier to learn that she was happy?

"Don't worry about the dead, it's the living that have all the problems," Baron Samedi said, setting his glass to his lips. "Now, are you sure you wouldn't like to spend the evening with my wife and I?"

"Really, really sure. Thanks," Jack said, shaking his head. "I've, uh, I've got to go."


	6. Guilty Conscience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Sorry for the late update, my sister graduated high school last week, so it was busy around here (hey look at that, a legit excuse for once).

_"Misery loves company, Jack, you don't want to be alone right now. Apparently so much that you're willing to put up with me."_

* * *

**Chapter Six: Guilty Conscience**

* * *

It was quiet here. The hour was odd and no one else was around. Even if they were, they likely wouldn't have seen the boy with wings, one in a splint, lurking near the glass.

Hospitals were usually such dreary places, unsettling in their sterility, uncomfortable with goodbyes and fear. This place was a notable exception, where mostly joy reigned.

Through the glass, in the nursery, were several rows of bassinets. Each bassinet held a newborn baby: pink, squishy, and probably not all that cute to anyone outside their family yet.

They were bundled in soft blankets and hats that would surely never be as warm and cozy as their mother's womb was, wearing mitts to keep from scratching themselves or anyone else with their unusually sharp nails.

Soft footsteps against the constantly washed floor drew Cupid's eyes from the nursery. The woman with the long, dark hair spared him a smile before standing beside him, watching the infants as well.

"It's summer," she said. "Shouldn't you be lurking a wedding or an exotic honeymoon?"

"Hard to get around recently," Cupid said, gesturing to his splint.

"Still, even a courthouse wedding would surely be more romantic than a hospital," the woman said, smiling as one of the babies stirred, giving it a soft wave. "Think there's one within walking distance."

"I've been traveling by portal, but I'm running out and I don't want to go back to the North Pole to get more yet," Cupid sighed. "Besides, hospitals are full of people finally realizing how much they love each other."

"But you're not there either, you're not watching someone confessing their love to someone else before going into life-threatening surgery, you're watching newborns sleep." The baby that had stirred seemed in awe of her. And why wouldn't they be? She was the goddess of childbirth, after all.

He should have known better than to not expect to run into her here.

"There are different kinds of love, Artemis," Cupid said.

"I know that," she said, turning back to him. "But you and your mother specialize in the romantic, sexual kind. Your name  _is_  Eros, after all."

"I'm aware. But the first sort of love most people experience is storge, familial love. It's nice being around nurseries, because usually there's so much of that in the air," Cupid said. "It makes me a bit nostalgic."

These babies didn't know how lucky they were that they would not have to remain physically infants for centuries.

"Makes you think of your mother, hm?"

"Our powers pick up on eros more than anything, but I remember picking up on storge from her."

"She loves you very much," Artemis nodded.

"No one expects to have a kid that's going to age that slowly. I didn't make it easy for her because I was so  _frustrated_  to be an adult stuck in an infant's body. I couldn't even communicate verbally for ages and she  _figured it out._  Every time I felt like a burden to her, she'd hold me close whether I wanted it or not and I would just  _feel_  all her love for me and the fact that I was around," Cupid said. "And the thing is? It's not just me. All the Muses feel that way about each other, they all just… they just love each other. It doesn't matter that they're not related by blood, they love each other like they are. And the fact that they love  _me_  that way too is just… hard to deal with recently."

"You're feeling  _guilty_  again," Artemis tsked.

"I betrayed the alliance, I betrayed  _the Muses,_  and Rowan is dead," Cupid said.

"You did it because you love  _them_  as much as they love you, Eros, you did it to keep them safe," Artemis said, setting a hand to his shoulder. "I've told you before, we can't beat ourselves up over the Mortal Muse's death."

"We're the reason she was fed on in the first place, the reason she was so sick and weak and—" Cupid started.

"And even if she wasn't sick or weak she may have still drowned. Even if she wasn't fed on that night, she may have been fed on another night. A lot of things had to come together to result in her death, we only played one small part," Artemis said.

"I'm not sure they'll see it that way. The ones you love can hurt you the most and this is going to be  _such_  a huge betrayal to them, I just… maybe love won't be enough. They might not be able to forgive me for this when they find out. And they  _will_  find out, they're trying to figure out why no one wants to ally with them while they're under Apollo's control, it'll come back to us eventually," Cupid said, practically rambling through his anxiety over the situation.

"That's why you've been avoiding them?" Artemis asked. He hadn't been able to give her many updates recently and he knew she was irritated about that.

"I can't look them in the face without feeling guilty. The Guardians, either. Even Jack! It used to be easy because we would just give each other a hard time but now  _he_  thinks I'm loyal and a friend and I can't believe I'm to the point where I don't want to let  _Jack Frost_  down," Cupid said with a slight wince. The fact that he and Jack were sort of friends now was still a hard pill to swallow.

For both of them.

"Tell them," Artemis said.

"Tell them what?" Cupid asked.

"Tell them that I'm the reason no one wants to ally with them. Tell them that I want them on  _my_  side, not Apollo's. Tell them that you've been working with me because you were trying to help and Apollo's been keeping his distance so I was the best option, but to avoid Apollo throwing a fit, it had to stay secret. Tell them the  _truth,"_  Artemis said, stepping in front of Cupid to look him in the eye.

"I don't think it's that easy," Cupid said. "They'll… they'll  _hate_  me, I'm sure of it."

"It's better they hear it from you than to hear it when Apollo finally figures it out. And maybe they will hate you for a while, but they still love you, and you can't keep torturing yourself like this," Artemis said. "Besides, I have enough mythical beings on my side that I'm more than ready to negotiate with Calliope. Soon enough, the Muses won't belong to Apollo anymore. They'll be  _mine."_

* * *

Jack sat beneath a shady tree and watched as the nearby river went by at a steady pace: not too fast, not too slow. The sound was monotonous, but soothing as he sat with his arms wrapped around his knees.

Baron Samedi had given Jack probably one of the better answers he could have hoped for. He knew this, logically, at least.

Emotionally, however, that was a different story.

She was happy, and if she was happy,  _he_ should be happy, right?

The thought of her at peace, without pain, without the crippling fear that had haunted her and triggered panic attacks should leave him relieved.

It should be some kind of comfort that she was content, if a bit worried, keeping an eye on things from the other side.

Hell, he should be at least interested in the fact that there was an afterlife  _at all_.

But the feeling that left a tightness in his heart and a hollowness in his belly was not happiness, not comfort, and certainly not relief.

Getting these answers was supposed to help him cope with this, to try and accept that she wasn't around and that maybe that sentiment that she would "always be with him" wasn't total bullshit.

Instead, Jack seemed to have shifted gears from depressed to resentful.

"You're probably the worst person to ever exist, Frost," he mumbled to himself. Here he was, sulking about and being angry that Rowan was  _completely okay_  with being dead.

How could she be happy about it while he was so miserable over it?

The anger didn't come without guilt, prompting Jack to question what exactly would make him feel better. Would her spirit becoming restless and haunting the earth for eternity, flickering light switches or something equally ghostlike, be a more acceptable fate? Would he be satisfied if she were stuck in some kind of purgatory somewhere, lost and without direction or meaning forever?

Obviously not.

So, why wasn't he okay with what the Baron had told him?

Footsteps in the grass barely caught his attention. It was the hoarse voice that followed, rather, that left Jack tense.

"Funny, I thought that was  _my_  title."

Was he hallucinating again? Images of Melpomene had shown up quite a few times to taunt him while he was battling with his tired mind. When he glanced her way, he found that she was watching the river, not him, a small frown fixed to her face.

"What?" Jack said.

He couldn't be hallucinating; he wasn't fatigued. It hadn't been long enough since he had woken up at the pole to be fatigued.

"'The worst person to ever exist,'" Melpomene clarified.

She stayed where she was, a few feet away and still facing the water rather than him. Jack watched her carefully, unsure what to make of her being here.

"Hmph," was his non-committal response. Melpomene knew very well how Jack felt about her, and those feelings certainly hadn't changed after Rowan died.

After all, perhaps if Melpomene had communicated more with the rest of the group, Rowan would still be alive.

Then again, perhaps she would have died soon anyway, at a slower, more painful pace. Rowan  _had_  been very sick and significantly weakened when she died. No one had a clue if she would survive what the Shadow People had put her through in the long run.

As much as it might potentially make Jack feel better to pin Rowan's death on someone else, someone he already resented, it was hard not to continue to consider that she might have been better off if he had never come into her life in the first place.

Magic had hurt Rowan more than it had kept her safe, in the long run.

"Self-pity isn't a good look, Jack," Melpomene purred, turning back to face him at last. "You're far better suited for self- _loathing."_

"Maybe I wouldn't feel any of that if  _you_  weren't around," he quipped.

She smiled softly. "You and I both know that isn't true."

She wasn't wrong. He'd felt like this ever since he and the Baron had parted ways.

But Jack was not about to admit that.

"So what are you feeling sorry about?  _Her_  again? Poor, poor Jack, destined to be  _alone_ , it seems," Melpomene sighed, as though the notion was delightful, plopping down beside him. Jack inched away, glaring daggers at her.

"So  _leave me_  alone," he said.

"Misery loves company, Jack, you don't want to be alone right now. Apparently so much that you're willing to put up with  _me,"_  Melpomene said, seeming amused at the idea.

"What gives you that idea?" Jack sneered.

Melpomene glanced back at the river. "You came here."

Jack's eyes fell to the not too distant bridge that ran across the river. His stomach sank.

This wasn't just any river that he had wandered to and plopped down beside.

Of all the rivers in the world, he had come to  _this_  one.

This river, this bridge, where he and Melpomene had met.

This river where Melpomene had died.

He had needed to think. He just needed to get far away from that island and go somewhere quiet to think. He had gone here instinctively.

"No," Jack said, shaking his head as he pulled himself to his feet. "No, I made a mistake."

"You didn't come here by accident, Jack," Melpomene said. "No one else  _gets_  it. No one else knows what it's like to attract tragedy like this."

"You did this last time," Jack snapped. She leaned back against the tree casually, as though she were bored with what he was about to say before he even had a chance to say it. "You went on and on about how you were the  _only one_  that understood, that you were the  _only one_  that really knew me and it is  _bullshit_."

"Is it?" Melpomene asked. "Who among the Guardians understands? Nicholas? He had a lifetime with his mortal love. They had a marriage; they had children. When she died, there weren't any statements left unsaid, any plans cancelled, any regrets. How would he understand?

"And then there was Rowan. You told her  _everything,_  didn't you? Things you didn't even tell the other  _Guardians,_  you told her. You saw her at her absolute worst and her very best;  _she_  was your person. But you can't talk to her."

Jack broke eye contact, swallowing.

Rowan  _would_  be the first person he would want to talk to about something like this. He missed staying up late and talking to her.

She had been his best friend.

"And what, that leaves you?" he said.

"You forget Jack, I've seen  _you_  at your absolute worst. I've seen you at rock bottom. There is no image to uphold with me, I already know so many of the miserable, miserable thoughts that have passed through your tragic little mind," Melpomene said. "Besides, what am  _I_  going to do? Judge you for feeling sorry for yourself?"

"Maybe not, but you would tell the rest of the Muses," Jack said, having not forgotten the compulsive urge to gossip among the group. "I'm not the same desperate and alone spirit you found all those years ago, and I'm not  _doing_  this again."

"True, things have changed, it's hard not to change in all this time," Melpomene said with a nod. "But, you  _are_  desperate. And you  _are_  alone."

"Being alone is still better than how I was with you," Jack said.

"Did you ever consider that I might have changed too, Jack?" she asked. She watched him with those sad eyes, those eyes that lured you in and begged you to wipe away the tears.

Jack shook his head, turning his heel and kicking off the ground without another word.

* * *

"We need to find out what we're up against,  _who_  we're up against," Urania said, shaking her head as one of the elves came by to offer her a tray of cookies. The elf seemed somewhat insulted and approached Erato next with a huff. "They're probably the ones convincing everyone not to associate with Apollo."

"The stars haven't told you  _anything?_ " Terpsichore asked with a frown. Erato took a pink frosted cookie and lightly pat the elf on the head.

"Just that whoever's working against Apollo is closer than we believe," Urania sighed.

"Would it kill them to not be cryptic for once?" Terpsichore mumbled.

"Do you suppose they are talking about Melpomene?" North asked. The other Muses present grew visibly uncomfortable at the suggestion; Calliope shook her head.

"I don't think it's Mel," she said. "Not after last time, trust me, she doesn't want anyone else to end up dead."

"I trust  _you._  It is Melpomene that concerns me," North said.

"I don't think it's her either, for what it's worth," Erato added. "And everyone she talks to, well, either they're not on Pitch's side or if they are, they're not telling her."

"So as far as he wants us to know, he's not up to  _anything_  with those plans," Urania said.

"I very much doubt that," North said, shaking his head. Sandy, who had gleefully taken the eggnog that had been offered to him by one of the elves, nodded in agreement.

"He doesn't really  _have_  to do anything, though. Look at how scared we are, how much we're scrambling and he  _hasn't_ done anything yet," Calliope groaned. "I just don't know where to go from here or what to do differently when we don't know  _why_  no one wants to deal with Apollo."

"Is Pitch even strong enough to do anything yet? He was just starting to recover the last we saw him," Terpsichore said. "And as far as Apollo goes, well, he's an ass, it might just be that simple."

"It is hard to say if Pitch is strong enough to do anything or even has the resources to make a bomb from those plans. We are already keeping an eye on anyone that has a supply of stardust, not much else to do at this point," North shrugged. "Not much else except to try and get more people on our side."

"You guys are lucky, Tsar Lunar is so much more  _agreeable_  than Apollo is," Erato said. Sandy shrugged, a crescent moon and several other images flashing above his head.

"True, Tsar Lunar's not with his own enemies. Especially when it comes to Artemis," Urania said.

"And those that love Artemis. She's the moon goddess and as far as they're concerned, Tsar Lunar took up residence in  _her_  territory," Calliope said.

"And as far as  _he_  is concerned, the moon has always been  _his,"_  North sighed.

"It's all so messy," Terpsichore pouted.

A portal opened up nearby and Cupid appeared, looking nervous as the four Muses and two Guardians present turned to face him. Erato grinned, walking over and pulling the boy into her arms.

"Cupid! I was just telling North earlier that I hadn't seen you in a while," Erato said.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"How's your wing doing? Still basically the same?" Urania said, approaching his wing and examining it as best she could as Erato released the boy from her grasp.

"Yeah, the same," Cupid shrugged. Urania frowned.

"He's always healed slowly, I imagine it's because he ages so slowly," Erato said with a frown.

"At this rate the earliest it'll heal will be New Year's," Urania said.

"Where've you been, Cupid? Have you heard anything or talked to anyone that might help us?" Calliope asked, her tone cautiously hopeful.

The boy avoided eye contact, and the others in the room eyed him in concern as he stood there silently, nervously. He cleared his throat after a moment, seeming to try his best to find the words to speak.

"I know why no one wants to work with Apollo," he said.

"Great!" North said with a grin. When Cupid's frown just deepened, the others exchanged worried glances.

"Cupid," Erato said. "What do you know?"

"I love all of you, I love all of you so much, you know that, right? You know I'd do anything to keep you all safe and that I just  _love you_  all so much,  _right?"_  Cupid said, his tone still nervous as he finally met his mother's eyes.

"You're making us nervous, what happened?" Terpsichore asked.

"Eros Cupid, what did you  _do?"_  Erato said, her eyes widening in fear of what he may say.

"You  _know_  I love you all and just want to protect you, right?" Cupid said again.

"We know that. Now, tell us what you need to tell us," Calliope said, her tone stern as she approached her nephew and crossed her arms before her chest.

All eyes were on him, even a few passing yetis and elves had stopped to see what was happening and why exactly Cupid was so nervous.

"Pitch was right, I'm the reason the Shadow People knew how to trap Jack in Paris. I'm the reason they were able to get Rowan alone. The fact that I was able to save both of them was not a coincidence, it was set up," Cupid said. "I was giving information to Artemis. She set everything up so that I could solidify my place in the alliance. I didn't know that's what she was doing, she didn't tell me that she had leaked any information, she just suggested I go to Paris that night and everything fell into place from there. She knew I would step in to save them and you would be grateful."

He winced, waiting for whatever was coming next.

There was silence for a moment, wide eyes, shocked faces. Erato looked absolutely terrified, hands covering her mouth.

North was the one that broke the silence, his deep voice large and intimidating.  _"WHAT?!"_

"You told me it wasn't true!" Erato said, on the verge of tears as she spoke. "You looked me in the eye and you told me that Pitch was  _wrong_  and that you hadn't set up  _anything!"_

"I didn't set it up! Artemis set it up, I didn't know that she was behind it until after the fact! I  _did_  tell her the information that she leaked to the Shadow People, though, the fact that Tooth was using Tsar Lunar XI's sword, and I am so sorry, but I was trying to keep you all safe, I—" Cupid started.

"How in the hell is leaking information keeping us safe?" Calliope demanded.

"Artemis and I  _both_  want you safe! She knew she couldn't help directly without Apollo getting pissed and—" said Cupid.

"How does trapping Jack keep anyone safe?!" North said, clearly still furious.

"I wouldn't have gone about it that way, I wouldn't have told her anything if I knew  _that's_  what she planned to do! I just needed to solidify my place in the alliance so none of you would second-guess letting me fight," Cupid said.

Images were flashing above Sandy's shocked face at such a rapid pace, Cupid could barely register the specifics of his disappointment.

"So you leaked information so you wouldn't get  _benched?"_  Terpischore said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"You made everything  _worse,_  Cupid!" Urania said.

"You  _lied_  to me," Erato said, tears rolling down her cheeks now. The boy was visibly upset over this, over everyone's reaction.

"We tried to help! Artemis sent me to smudge Rowan's room and leave her with crystals to try and help her healing process. We didn't want her dead. We didn't want anyone dead, Artemis… Artemis knew you wouldn't take her help if she just offered it because Apollo would try to stop her," Cupid said.

"This is her idea of help?" North said.

"She thought after the new moon, after you had to relocate Rowan and everything else that you would seek her help despite what Apollo thought, that you would choose to bring her in. That's the only way she could help without it seeming like she was going behind his back," Cupid said. "That's what she wants, she wants you to choose her over Apollo, and that's why so many people won't side with you while you're associated with him. Because she already talked to them and they're on her side."

"Why are you telling us this  _now?"_  Calliope asked.

"Because I wanted you to hear from me. Apollo isn't doing enough to protect you, and I know you're mad and I know Artemis didn't go about it the right way but she is prepared to be a better leader than he is," Cupid said.

"We can't just ditch Apollo," Terpsichore said. "He brought us back to the dead, I mean… Artemis is just his sister."

"No, she's not," Cupid said, shaking his head.

"What do you mean?" Erato asked, wiping her eyes.

"Apollo can bring the Mortal Muse back from the dead as a Muse, but  _Artemis_  is the one that picks the Mortal Muse in the first place," Cupid said. "All of you were hand-picked by Artemis when you were born."

_"What?_  Apollo always said that it was random! He—he always said that it just  _happened_  and—I searched all over the world trying to track down Rowan and he never  _once_  said I could have just asked Artemis who the Mortal Muse was! He  _knew_  how important it was we find her quickly for all our sakes!" Calliope said, nostrils flared and teeth clenched.

"He'll do anything to keep you on his side instead of hers, even if it means risking you," Cupid said. "Artemis has just as much to do with each of you being Muses as he does. And if she tries to tell you that Apollo will say she's lying or manipulating you. He's on a power trip, he always has been."

"We can't just abandon him and join up with Artemis instead,  _especially_  after finding all this out," Urania said, shaking her head.

"She's right, as angry as I am at Apollo that he would keep this quiet, there's too much history, we can't just leave," Calliope said. "Especially for someone who tried to manipulate us into reaching out to her."

"I really didn't mean for anyone to get hurt, I really just wanted to keep you all safe and I've felt so guilty about Rowan being dead, I just, I really want you all to know that," Cupid said.

"You could have come clean about this  _long_  ago," Erato said, shaking her head.

"When you asked me during the new moon if I had anything to do with setting everything up and I said no, I  _genuinely_  didn't know that Artemis had set it up, _I swear,"_  Cupid said.

"When  _did_  you know?" Urania asked.

Cupid dropped eye contact again, shame radiating from his being. "Not long after."

"And yet you still acted as though it was ridiculous to assume that you were involved," North scoffed.

"I would never put any of you in danger on purpose," Cupid said again, weakly.

"We  _trusted_  you to keep what was said at the meetings confidential. You betrayed that trust," Calliope said. "We stood up for you, we believed you when you lied."

"I never lied, all I said was that I would never put you in danger and that I would do anything to protect you, that's what I did!" Cupid said.

"You kept secrets and you played us all and we can't trust you like we did before," Calliope said.

"Please. Please, I was just trying to keep you all safe, I thought working with Artemis was the best option," Cupid said.

"I do believe your intentions were good," Erato said, still crying. "But Eros… you went behind our backs. You were just as deceptive as Pitch was at the end."

"I know, I'm sorry," he said.

"I'm so disappointed in you," she said.

"I am too," he said sincerely. "I'm  _so_  sorry."

"You need to leave," Calliope said. "We need to figure out what to do about this and hell if I'm having you report back to Artemis."

Cupid swallowed and nodded slowly, pulling another snow globe from his pocket. Turning away from the disappointed faces of the others, he tossed the snow globe forward and was gone in the next instant.


	7. Wish You Were Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there's not much point in pointing out the chapter's late anymore, I should probably just start pointing out when I manage to get it up on time. Anyway, this sort of worked out since this first scene takes place on the Fourth of July and I wound up getting to post it on said day! Happy Independence Day, my American readers! This first scene was actually supposed to be chapter one, but that didn't work. Then it was gonna be chapter two but that didn't feel right either. Finally, I was able to fit it in here.

_If it was annoying to have North, who he actively liked and respected, fuss over his sleep schedule and how he was feeling, it was certainly annoying to have any of the Muses that he had previously avoided and disdained do it._

* * *

**Chapter Seven: Wish You Were Here**

* * *

The days were long this time of year, sunset not for at least another few hours. The sky was clear and the air was warm.

Small children whined in protest as their parents pulled them away from their play to slather them with SPF-something or another. They stared longingly at sprinklers, water balloons, and bicycles.

Not a single picnic table was vacant, and the smell of burning coals was thick in the air. A number of passionate debates could be heard over what the "proper" way to cook a hamburger was.

The latest summer hits were playing on old radios with long antennas, and newer devices plugged into small, sleek speakers.

Snow cones, ice cream, apple pie.

American flags.

Red, white, and blue streamers.

It was the Fourth of July, Independence Day, and there were plenty of places that Jack Frost should be that  _weren't_  Burgess, Pennsylvania.

This time of year, he should be making it snow in New Zealand, or lurking around somewhere further north.

If it were the Independence Day celebrations he was after, why not visit the capitol or any other city that might have more extravagant festivities?

Well, Jack had spent most of the last two-hundred plus July fourths here, in Burgess. He loved watching the picnic, the fireworks, the kids running around and having fun.

True, it wasn't the same as snowball fights and sledding, but fun was fun, right?

Or, at least, that's how he had felt previous years.

He had hoped that this would be a distraction, a break, a chance to have fun and feel  _good_  again.

But watching the kids play, particularly  _these_  kids, was leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. His gaze kept falling back to the road that led to the cemetery.

It was almost annoying, really.

Jack had never spent an Independence Day with Rowan, so why was he noticeably upset that she wasn't here for this one?

He adjusted his position on the high branch of one of the trees in the park as he thought about her.

He thought about her donning a pair of sunglasses and complaining of the heat. She had mentioned a preference for the winter months, and the snowflake featured on the tattoo on her side left him inclined to believe she wasn't just saying as much for his benefit.

He pictured her running through the grass after the kids, being coaxed into joining a water balloon fight.

He could almost see her, so clearly, sitting in the shade and telling them another story, her eyes lighting up, sparkling in the way they always did when she got lost in a tale.

His heart ached, wanting this imagined scenario so badly as he saw Jamie Bennett and a few of his friends go by on their bikes a ways away. Jamie was tagging along toward the back, rather than leading as he usually did.

In this imagined scenario, Jack's heart didn't sink every time he saw Jamie. The boy still looked at him with admiration and excitement. Jack Frost was still fun, and a welcome addition to the group.

Oh, how things had changed.

If he was going to spend the day thinking about her anyway, maybe he would go visit Rowan's grave. Maybe he would wish her a Happy Independence Day, now that he knew she was likely to hear him.

Bitterly, Jack supposed that she might actually be having a better day than he was, wherever she was.

How on earth could she be happy not to be here?

Guilt settled in his stomach again at his resentment toward her for daring to be  _happy._

Maybe coming to Burgess  _had_  been a bad idea. What had once been a place so significant to only himself now had Rowan Sawyer everywhere he turned.

"'Ey, Vato," came a voice from down toward the trunk of the tree. Jack was used to not responding when someone called. After all, he was invisible to so many. But this voice was familiar, and so close, that he glanced down, finding a short woman standing there, straining to look up at him.

Cocking a brow, Jack abandoned his place on the branch and landed gracefully on the ground beside her. Her dark hair was styled into a fauxhawk, with the sides dyed red. Her brown eyes and facial piercings were hidden behind a large pair of sunglasses.

"Isn't it a little warm for you to be hanging around here?" she asked. "Don't want to piss off Mother Nature, especially now."

"She'll be fine as long as I don't make it snow," Jack shrugged. He hadn't been expecting to run into any mythical beings today, and had been doing a fine job avoiding everyone for the past few days. He supposed that had to come to an end at some point, and was at least grateful that it hadn't been Melpomene that he had run into again. "What are  _you_  doing here, Euterpe?"

"Thought I'd visit my sister," Euterpe said, gesturing toward the same road Jack had observed earlier. "Then I realized there was a barbeque happening and I  _do_  like those…"

"This is a pretty small town, I don't know that you can crash their community barbeque without them questioning who you are," Jack said, eyes fixed to the road with a frown.

"I'm someone's cousin, that usually works," the Muse shrugged. "Or, you know, I'll just make sure none of them can see me. Like you're not gonna steal some food or something later, right?"

"I dunno, I was just gonna watch from a distance," Jack mumbled.

"Well.  _That's_  not creepy  _at all_ ," Euterpe scoffed. Jack couldn't help but smile slightly. At least she wasn't fussing over him or questioning his recent sleeping habits or something. He would take a bit of teasing over that any day.

In the past few months, the Muses in general seemed to have joined forces with the Guardians not only in the alliance, but in worrying about Jack and how he was dealing with Rowan's death. He hadn't expected his truce with Calliope to result in the Muses suddenly  _caring_  about him.

While that sounded nice in theory, especially considering how long Jack had only had himself to rely on, he was having a hard enough time dealing with the Guardians and their concern. Not to mention, he had history with the Muses,  _unpleasant_  history.

If it was annoying to have North, who he actively liked and respected, fuss over his sleep schedule and how he was feeling, it was certainly annoying to have any of the Muses that he had previously avoided and disdained do it.

Euterpe wasn't annoying, though. If she was here solely to check up on him, it sure wasn't showing. She was relaxed, casual. There wasn't any pressure talking to her, and he could say that for very few of the Muses.

"Why don't you come with me to see Rowan? Stop moping around by yourself for ten minutes," the youngest Muse said.

"I'm not moping around!" Jack protested, knowing it was a lie. His entire day was destined to consist of watching everyone else celebrate and being sad that Rowan wasn't there and that Jamie hated him now.

"What do  _you_  call sitting in a tree all by yourself, sighing dramatically and watching other people have fun?" Euterpe asked. "Besides 'creepy,' I mean, we already established that."

"I wasn't sighing dramatically!"

"I like that  _that's_  the part you argue about," Euterpe laughed, turning her heel and heading for the street, gesturing for him to follow.

Sighing (though  _not dramatically,_  thank you very much), Jack kicked off the ground and caught up with her, hovering just a few inches above the ground the whole way. "I never said I was coming with you."

"And yet, here you are," Euterpe said. A woman walked by, passing straight through Euterpe. She shivered slightly, "That's always so weird."

"At least you can turn it on and off," Jack said, wishing he could do as much.

He could think of a number of things that would have been so much easier if he was visible to the average mortal.

Most of these things involved a certain deceased storyteller.

"Yeah, but it's hard to learn that. It took me over a year to figure it out. Our natural state is  _not_  to be seen by mortals. But, you know, sometimes people require different approaches to be inspired," Euterpe shrugged. "What's awkward is when you forget people can see you and you walk into them because you're expecting to just walk through them."

"Do you do that a lot?"

"More than I'd like to admit," she said with a smile. "So why  _are_  you here, Frosty? Visiting your girlfriend?"

"I'm always here on the fourth," Jack said, wincing a bit at her last comment. Was Rowan still his girlfriend now that she was dead? Was dying the same as breaking up? He supposed, technically, he was single again. "But I was probably going to visit her, too, yeah. I was thinking about her. Do you come by a lot?"

"Not too much, I usually come with Terpsichore if I come at all," Euterpe admitted. "But I felt like today would be a good day. What about you, visit her a lot?"

"Every now and again," Jack said. "Honestly, I don't think she would want me lurking by her grave too much instead of, you know,  _doing my job."_

"Probably, but it wouldn't be the first time you blew off some of your responsibilities for her," Euterpe pointed out.

"Hey, winter still happened, didn't it?" Jack said, forcing a neutral expression. Of course winter had happened; Rowan got hypothermia and drowned thanks to winter happening. "I also like that you suggested I go visit her grave with you as an alternative to 'moping around,' because… obviously her grave is going to be much more cheerful, right?"

"Well, the company will be better," Euterpe shrugged as they passed the cemetery gates. "Plus, cemeteries don't necessarily have to be gloomy. It's all about perspective. I spent lots of time by my grandparents' graves when I was alive. I liked to keep them updated, especially my abuela. My family always believed they were still with us, keeping an eye on everything."

"Do you visit them any now?" Jack asked, curious.

Euterpe shook her head. "The graveyard's gone now. They built over it. Pretty messed up, right?"

Jack winced at the thought, nodding in agreement.

How long would he get to visit Rowan's grave before something happened to it? A few centuries? Maybe?

Did it matter? He knew the grave meant little if her soul was in some kind of afterlife. But he liked the idea of having a place to visit her.

The apartment she used to live in was now occupied by someone else. Jack had lurked by the window out of curiosity, finding it messy, with mostly bare walls except for a handful of energy drink posters. The boy who had moved in spent a great deal of time playing violent video games.

Her room at her parents' house was dark and mostly untouched. A few boxes from her apartment had been stored there. Her parents weren't yet ready to do anything with her belongings. He had visited a handful of times but it just wasn't the same without her there.

That left the grave as some sort of depressing consolation prize.

They approached the plot a moment later, fresh flowers lying before the stone. Euterpe let out a whistle at the amount. "Someone's popular."

"Yeah, her story's still in the news every now and again," Jack sighed. "The police haven't figured out what happened before she died yet, obviously. They think it was some kind of kidnapping but there's no real proof."

"Oh yeah, Terpsichore and I looked it up online a few weeks ago. I read that they want to make it one of those made for tv movies," Euterpe said. "And the conspiracy theorists are going wild,  _so many_  people are convinced she was abducted by aliens."

"A movie? What would the plot even be? They don't know what happened," Jack sighed.

"I imagine it would be a dramatic interpretation of her life beforehand, a re-enactment of that security footage they've got, and then a black screen with the caption, 'Rowan Sawyer mysteriously disappeared that night. The investigation is still ongoing.' And then that would be the end of it," Euterpe said. "But I'm sure her parents would never sign off on it."

"Yeah, I don't see that happening," Jack said, incredibly uncomfortable with the idea of strangers making up scenarios that might explain Rowan's disappearance, theorizing what her life must have been like leading up to it.

He wasn't sure how  _she_  would feel about becoming a character in a story, but he certainly didn't like it. He knew what happened, and it hadn't been fun or pretty.

"Just for laughs, though, who do you think would play her in the movie?" Euterpe smirked. "She kinda looked like that one girl from  _Twilight."_

"I don't really see that," Jack said, shaking his head. He often had to look at the photos he had of Rowan, in the hopes that he wouldn't forget what she looked like. He had a mental checklist of all the features he'd memorized before her death.

Brown eyes. Pointed nose. Two beauty marks. Soft lips. Oval face. Knobby shoulders. Freckles. Long fingers. A scar on her right thumb.

The last thing he wanted to do was start to forget her.

"Not the main one, the other one, the one with the short hair that could tell the future or whatever," Euterpe said.

" _Oh,_  okay, maybe," Jack said.

"Her, or like, the other actress that looks just like her, the singing one," Euterpe said.

"Do you know any of their names?" Jack laughed, thankful for a conversation topic that was at least  _somewhat_  lighthearted.

"I mean, some of them. They all come and go so quickly!" Euterpe said, shaking her head. "What about you, who would play you? The mysterious, possibly made-up, possibly an alien in disguise if you ask the conspiracy theorists, boyfriend?"

"Um, shit, I don't know. Probably some scrawny nobody," Jack shrugged.

"What about that, uh, that guy that's the new Spider-Man? He's got the sarcastic little asshole thing down," Euterpe suggested.

"Eh, maybe," Jack said.

"Or, shit, I know this guy's name. Wait for it. He was in some sci-fi movie… name's like a tree… shit… Chris Pine! Chris Pine should play you," Euterpe said with a nod, looking victorious as she managed to remember an actor's name.

"The Star Trek guy? We look nothing alike!" Jack said, cocking a brow.

"You have the same exact voice though," Euterpe said. "It's weird."

"No, we don't," Jack said, shaking his head with a laugh.

"Uh, yeah, you do," Euterpe insisted, nodding her head vigorously.

"No, we don't."

"I'm the Muse of Song, I think I know a thing or two about voices, and I say your voices are exactly the same and it's kind of creepy, so there," Euterpe said, as though that ended the argument. "But fine, what about, uh, I don't know, Leonardo DiCaprio or something?"

"Maybe Leonardo DiCaprio from like, fifteen years ago," Jack said. "Besides, I doubt he wants to play another guy named Jack that has shitty luck with ice."

"True. Plus, crappy tv movies could never afford him. Or probably anyone we've mentioned," Euterpe said. She turned her attention to the grave and said, "Hey, sis, you gotta get popular enough for your story to be major motion picture material, okay? We need a Leonardo DiCaprio budget here."

"You know what she would have liked?" Jack said, smiling slightly as he thought of the character designs she had drawn. "An animated movie."

"Oooh, problem solved! Chris Pine could  _voice_  you!" Euterpe said, eyes lighting up.

Jack rolled his eyes. "We don't sound the same."

"You do, though!" Euterpe said. She turned back to the grave. "You gotta come back just so you can back me up on this, Rowan."

"She's  _my_  girlfriend, if she's coming back from the dead to back anyone up on an argument, it should be me. Aren't there eight other Muses you could use for that?" Jack asked.

Although, honestly, he could see Rowan taking anyone else's side just to irritate him, especially with an argument this petty.

"Oh, like most of them are gonna care," Euterpe said, settling herself down on the ground at the foot of the grave. "There's way too much on everyone's plate right now. Did you hear about Cupid?"

"No, I haven't talked to anyone in a few days, do I wanna know?" Jack asked, taking a seat as well. He absentmindedly froze the droplets of water left over on the grass from the sprinklers.

"He's been, well, feeding information to Artemis this whole time. Since back before the New Years Eve Ball," Euterpe explained.

"Wait, seriously?" Jack said, not expecting that at all. So much for lighthearted conversation.

Euterpe nodded. "I'm surprised they didn't tell you, apparently  _she_  gave the Shadow People the information they needed to trick you that night in Paris."

_"What?!"_  Jack said, eyes wide.

"Cupid didn't know she did it," Euterpe said quickly. "She set it up, but everything he did to help you out that night was genuine on his part. She was trying to solidify his place in the alliance so she could get more information. The hope was that we would get so desperate we would go to  _her_  for help. Cupid was trying to help, he thought he was helping by allying himself with her."

"So, Pitch was right?" Jack said, stomach sinking.

"More or less," Euterpe sighed. "On top of that, the reason so many people won't negotiate with us unless we kick Apollo to the curb is because she got to them first."

Jack turned from the Muse beside him and stared at the grave instead, unsure what to do with this information. He had come to trust Cupid, he had truly believed that Cupid didn't have it in him to put the Muses in harm's way.

Did this count as putting them in harm's way if his intentions were good? How much of Cupid's actions had just been an act to get information for Artemis?

Why exactly did Cupid trust Artemis so much, even after what she had done?

"Rowan didn't have to be attacked that night," Jack said, shaking his head. "I've been blaming  _myself_  this whole time for falling for it when someone else set the damn thing up?"

"For what it's worth," Euterpe said, "Cupid never wanted that to happen. He was the one that smudged her room and left the crystals. He tried to fix it. And like I said, he didn't know that Artemis had set it up, and he feels  _so_  guilty about it."

"You're going to defend him? He went on and on about wanting to protect you all and—and he was leaking information the whole time!" Jack said, shaking his head.

It occurred to him that he had advocated for Cupid's involvement in the alliance in the first place.

Between that and pushing for Pitch's involvement, it was becoming more and more apparent just how thoroughly Jack had screwed Rowan over in an attempt to help her.

His stomach sank. Hadn't Cupid done the same thing? Screwed everyone over in an attempt to help?

"He's my nephew and I love him," Euterpe said. "We're all very disappointed and needless to say, he's not invited to any future meetings. But we're not about to disown him or anything. He  _was_  trying to protect us and if Apollo weren't so stubborn Artemis wouldn't have had to go about it in such a round-about sneaky way."

"Yeah," Jack sighed, unsure how to feel, torn between anger over the revelation and understanding over making a huge mess without meaning to.

"We've got to focus on Artemis now, anyway," Euterpe sighed. "Calliope's going to talk to her soon, it sounds like she wants us to just ditch Apollo and join up with her instead."

"Well, Apollo is kind of an asshole," Jack commented.

"Yeah, but he's  _our_  asshole," Euterpe said. "I don't know, the whole thing is so complicated. Apollo and Artemis have been fighting for centuries, they only act civil every thousand years or so. Well, so I've heard. Terpsichore and I haven't actually seen them civil in our lifetimes."

"I'm suddenly thankful for the fact that Manny doesn't talk much," Jack said. Euterpe laughed.

"Oh, be glad you don't have to deal with all this, it's not the fun part at all, Rowan," she said, turning back to the grave.

"Oh, she's plenty glad," Jack said, unable to help the bitter tone in his voice. Euterpe raised her sunglasses in order to properly cock a brow at him.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I, uh, talked to Baron Samedi," Jack said.

Euterpe giggled. "I bet that was fun."

"Yeah, well. I asked how she was doing and he said she was fine, that she was worried but she was happy and that most people that have crossed over are happy," Jack explained dryly.

"Well, that's good news, right?" Euterpe asked.

"Right," Jack said with a nod, avoiding eye contact with Euterpe in favor of his slight reflection in the polished stone before them.

"Poly always says the afterlife is really nice, but we don't remember or we'd want to go back," Euterpe said. "And I mean, the Baron has no reason to lie. I'm sure she's fine."

"I don't doubt that she is," Jack sighed. That was the problem, after all.

Again, guilt consumed him.

"You… don't like that she's happy, do you?" Euterpe said.

"I didn't say that," Jack said. No, no, he would never say such a terrible thing out loud.

He would just think it and then feel guilty about it and let all those negative emotions stew inside him for an indefinite amount of time.

It was a pretty simple method.

"It's okay, you know," Euterpe said, leaning back on her elbows after setting her sunglasses back on her nose. "To be mad that she's okay with it."

"How on earth is that okay?" Jack asked, chancing a glance at her.

"It just means you're not ready to let them go," Euterpe said. "When my abuelo died, I was about eight years old. I had seven brothers and two sisters, so he and my abuela helped take care of us a lot. About a year after he died, my abuela got sick and didn't fight at all. She had lost all will to live and just wanted to be with him again. She had been such a strong woman, I was so close to her, I admired her  _so much_  and it made me so angry that she wouldn't fight to stay with us. She was done and she was content with her decision to die and be with him. I didn't understand how she could be okay with leaving us. I wasn't ready for her to go, but she was. I resented her for a long time after she died."

The two were silent for a moment, the slight breeze rustling the flowers set before Rowan's grave.

Jack hadn't expected Euterpe to share such a personal story from her past.

On one hand, it made him feel a bit better that he wasn't the only one that was less than happy to know that a loved one was fine with being dead.

On the other, Rowan had died so suddenly, and so young. Surely the circumstances were different?

Though, it would be a lie to suppose that Rowan hadn't seen this coming. She had developed such a strong fear that her death was coming, and coming soon, that she had gone as far as making arrangements with Jack so that her stories would be left to Jamie. Perhaps she had already accepted what was coming, as well.

"But you  _did_  stop resenting her?" Jack finally said.

"Yes. Being angry is just part of the grieving process. It's understandable to be angry about it. Angry that they're okay with it when you're not, angry at the circumstances that led to it, angry at everyone involved. It all comes down to being angry and sad that they're gone in the first place," Euterpe said. "Just have to ride out the anger. Soon enough you'll accept that she's gone, that it can't be changed, and let her go."

"It  _can_  be changed is what's messed up about it," Jack sighed, though he hoped that Euterpe was right, that he would in fact stop being angry about this at some point.

He wasn't sure it would be any time soon.

"Yeah, that must be terrible," Euterpe frowned. "Trying to grieve her and all the while knowing that  _maybe_  she'll come back in a few months. If she comes back then you kind of wasted time being sad about it, but if she doesn't, then… well, it could be like losing her all over again."

"Don't remind me," Jack groaned. Euterpe sat up and gently, hesitantly, set a hand to his shoulder.

"Hey, we're about halfway there, at least," the Muse said. "Then you'll have answers, and hopefully she'll come back."

"She didn't want to," Jack said softly. If there had been anything Rowan had made clear ever since finding out she was the Mortal Muse, it was that she did  _not_  want to be a Muse.

Euterpe frowned. "I'm not sure anyone really does at first. We weren't really welcoming, either."

"She liked you. Both you and Terpsichore after spending time with you at the ball. I mean, before the new moon when she kind of hated all of you again," Jack said.

"We liked her too," Euterpe said. "Maybe we all could have been friends if the circumstances had been different."

"Maybe," Jack said, having played over different scenarios of how things  _could_ have gone in his head over and over.

"Well, if you do come back, I promise to be a better sister," Euterpe said to the tombstone. "It's not gonna be like when I became a Muse. No, you're gonna have someone in your corner, I promise."

"Didn't have an easy time, huh?" Jack said, only having heard part of the story from Thalia.

"Not at all," Euterpe said, shaking her head and pulling herself to her feet. "Anyway, you were right, this wasn't any less gloomy. What do you say to stealing some snow cones?"

"I do like snow cones," Jack said.

"C'mon, then, we'll come back when we have something fun to tell her."

* * *

Apollo hadn't made it a secret when he had arrived. He wasn't one for stealth and the flaming horses pulling his chariot were sort of a give-away as they landed in the clearing where Cupid was lurking.

The clearing was used often as a sort of make-out spot for teenagers, but being the middle of the day, it was basically abandoned. Cupid had hoped for some time alone to think and clear his head, but apparently Apollo had other plans.

With a broken wing, Cupid couldn't retreat even if he wanted to, swallowing nervously as the older man made his way toward him, walking with great purpose.

He knew; he had to. It was only a matter of time before word got back to Apollo what Cupid had done. He knew the man would be mad, but just how he would take his anger out was unclear.

That is, until Apollo's fist, decorated with the usual rings, met Cupid's Jaw.

Cupid stumbled back at the sucker punch, wind knocked out of him and struggling for a moment to keep his balance.

"You ungrateful little brat," Apollo spat, grabbing Cupid by the collar and pulling him closer. Cupid could swear, even through the sunglasses the man wore, he could see flames dancing in his eyes. "I. Gave. You.  _Life."_

"It wasn't just you—" Cupid started.

"If it weren't for me, you would have died a bundle of cells with no identity! I'm the reason you  _and_  your dear mother are here, the reason you are  _important,_  the reason you  _matter_ , and  _this_  is how you repay me?" Apollo snarled, shoving Cupid to the ground. Cupid couldn't help but cry out in pain as he landed on his broken wing before Apollo leaned over to throw another swing at his face.

"You need to learn some respect, boy! Don't think I've forgotten about your little prank all those years ago! I suppose it makes sense, doesn't it? That you'd run off to Artemis? Auntie Artemis is the whole reason I didn't punish you over Daphne in the first place," Apollo said as Cupid shakily attempted to get back to his feet. "That was a mistake. I should have taught you respect right then and there."

Cupid wiped his mouth, leaving a streak of blood on his hands. He wanted to say that the whole reason the incident with Daphne had occurred in the first place was because of  _Apollo's_  lack of respect, but chose not to.

Nothing was going to help his case now.

There was hardly any reasoning with Apollo when he was  _calm_.

Apollo gripped Cupids collar again, slamming the boy into the nearby tree. Another groan at the impact with his wing.

"I could break your other wing. I could tear them from your back. I  _gave_  you those wings and I can damn well take them away," Apollo said, pulling Cupid away from the tree only to slam him back against it again. "For this betrayal? I should. I should rip them from your back and watch you bleed. I should make your wings a trophy, a warning to all those that plan to cross me."

Cupid found himself on the ground again after another punch, this one to his eye. His head throbbed and he couldn't help but wish that Apollo wasn't so fond of large rings.

There was little point in fighting back. Cupid wasn't great at hand-to-hand combat; his area of expertise was long-range fighting with the bow and arrow. Besides, this was the guy that had beaten a  _war god_  in boxing.

It wasn't a fair fight.

"I did what I thought was right," Cupid said after taking a moment to spit blood from his mouth, glancing Apollo's way again.

"What  _you_  thought was right? Who are you to make such a decision? Who are you to act against me, to  _betray_ me?" Apollo said, setting a foot to Cupid's chest and pinning him to the ground. "I gave you life, I granted your powers,  _I AM A GOD."_

Cupid coughed as Apollo pressed his heel into his chest. "I am a god, you disrespectful son of a bitch, and I am not the weak new age kind that's all about forgiveness."

Another cough, Apollo's heel dug deeper. Cupid hopelessly reached for the other man's ankle, trying to push it off with no luck.

"I am the ancient, powerful,  _vengeful_  kind of god," Apollo said, pulling his foot away before kneeling down. This time he slid his fingers around Cupid's throat. "Let the damage to your pretty face be a warning to everyone. Crossing me is a death sentence, and once again, little Eros got off easy."

Cupid gasped for air as Apollo tightened his grip before slamming the boy against the ground again.

"You can tell my sister," Apollo said, standing upright and straightening his suit, "That if it's a fight she wants, it's a fight she'll get. That is, if you can even manage to speak."

Cupid coughed, wincing in pain as he attempted to pull himself back to an upright position. His entire body throbbed and it was beginning to be difficult to see out of his left eye, which had to be swelling by now.

The splint on his wing had been damaged during the one-sided fight and he would have to ask Clio to help him repair it. That was sure to be a very fun conversation, what with all the Muses angry at him.

Cupid glanced up in time to see Apollo's chariot fly off into the distance, still coughing.

Somehow, he remained unconvinced that Apollo was the best choice in leader.


	8. Underground

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh shit, a chapter that's on time? Gasp! Another meeting in this chapter, I never imagined I'd have to write so many meetings. Anyway, if you need cheat sheets for the Muses I reblogged my character sheets again over on my RotG tumblr (link in bio) so it should be on the front page.

_Even Jack had never been punched in the face for one of_ his _screw ups._

* * *

**Chapter Eight: Underground**

* * *

Jack had skipped out on the last few meetings, too tired, too sad, and therefore unable to focus. There was no point in attending when he was going to be useful to no one and retain nothing that was said.

He was still tired, but hadn't hallucinated in about a week.

He was still sad, but not so overwhelmingly sad that he could not bring himself to leave his bed.

He was able to focus enough to at least get himself to the North Pole in a timely manner for this meeting that Sandy had told him about the previous night.

That was progress, right? Or, something resembling it, at least.

"Jack, what are you doing here?" Erato asked as soon as the boy landed. Jack glanced around the platform, finding none of the other Guardians, nor the other Muses.

"The meeting is today, right?" Jack asked, suddenly doubting his previous assumption that he was completely capable of focusing and getting through a meeting.

Maybe he had misunderstood Sandy and missed it entirely.

"Yes, but didn't Urania tell you that it's at the Warren?" Erato said, speaking in hushed tones for reasons Jack didn't know. She looked tired, her meticulously lined eyes slightly puffy.

"No, Urania didn't tell me anything, Sandy mentioned it last night," Jack said, relieved at least that he hadn't missed the meeting.

"She probably assumed you weren't going. North and I are heading out in a minute, you can come with us through the portal," the blonde said.

"Thanks," Jack said. "Why isn't the meeting here?"

"Um… change of scenery," Erato said, unconvincing, as she attempted to rub her eye without smearing her eye shadow. Jack cocked a brow.

"O…kay," he said skeptically.

"Jack! Are you coming to meeting?" North asked as he approached, snow globe in hand. He hadn't been as pushy about Jack's attendance recently, which Jack had mixed feelings about.

On one hand, it was sort of nice to not be pressured into trying to work when he didn't feel like he was up for it. On the other, it  _did_  make Jack feel at least somewhat needed if his presence was so important that it was necessary for a yeti to drag him there.

"Yeah, figured it was about time," Jack shrugged.

"How have you been sleeping?" the older man asked.

"You mean since you forced me?" Jack said, eyes narrowed.

"It was for your own good," North reasoned.

"Hmph. Well, I'm not hallucinating," Jack said, neglecting to elaborate further. The truth was that his sleeping habits had barely improved, as he was still afraid of dreaming about Rowan. He would sleep only for an hour or two at a time, his mind unable to rest any longer than that.

He didn't need to tell North this and end up knocked out again.

"Well, I mean, that's good to hear," Erato said with a nod, forcing a smile.

"Yes, I suppose so," North said, before whispering their destination to the snow globe and tossing it forward. The glowing, twisting portal appeared immediately.

The three stepped through, finding themselves in the Warren, most of the others already present.

Many of the Muses were settled near the dye river's edge, watching it flow as they chattered among themselves. Tooth was speaking to Polyhymnia, who was holding a handkerchief and sneezed every couple of moments.

_"I swear, I don't know what it is, but I'm allergic to_ something _here…"_

Sandy had settled himself comfortably in the center of a large flower, looking content as Calliope paced nearby, mumbling to herself about something.

Thalia's eyes lit up when she spied Erato and waved frantically at the other Muse. "Era! Hey! C'mere! Are you okay?"

Erato, still wearing that forced smile, made her way over to Thalia. Thalia was seated beside a very bored looking Melpomene who was plucking petals from nearby flowers.

Jack barely spared Melpomene a brief glance, his stomach turning as he considered the last time he saw her. Between showing up at her place of death without meaning to and hallucinating her before, Jack was beginning to worry about his state of mind.

What if he was on his way to that sad, lonely, rock bottom place he had been in so long ago, with her?

He couldn't go there again, he just couldn't.

"Who are we waiting on?" North asked Bunny.

"Just Clio and Urania," Bunny said. North nodded.

"Why's the meeting here this time?" Jack asked, hoping to get a clear answer now that he was asking someone besides Erato. Focusing on something that wasn't Melpomene would be nice, too.

"Well! Look who decided to show up for once. It's almost like you're a Guardian or something," Bunny said, paws to his hips. He shook his head disapprovingly at Jack, but a smile was twitching at the corners of his mouth.

"Almost," Jack shrugged.

"We're here today because we're discussing Apollo and Artemis, maybe even Manny. It's delicate and we don't want them eavesdropping," Bunny said in hushed tones. While the Warren was bright as though it were a lovely spring afternoon, it was entirely underground and out of their leaders' prying eyes.

"They're not gonna be happy about that, are they?" Jack said.

"Well, not as unhappy as Apollo was with Cupid," Bunny said.

"He found out? What happened?" Jack asked, glancing back Erato's way. Her face was buried in her hands and Thalia was hugging her warmly. His stomach sank.

Apollo wouldn't do anything  _too_  bad to Cupid… would he?

"Apollo beat 'im black and blue. You should see his face, one of the worst shiners I've ever seen," Bunny said. "Almost broke his wing again, too. He'll be fine, but the kid heals slow."

"And I thought  _I_  was upset with him," North said, eyes on Erato as well, frowning.

"Don't get me wrong, I wanted to punch Cupid too, but I wouldn't have worn  _rings_  while I did it," Bunny said, shaking his head. Jack winced at the thought.

Echoed swears could be heard from the nearby tunnel, drawing everyone's attention before Urania and Clio came tumbling through. They were tangled in Clio's mechanical wings, which twitched and sparked, whining mechanically.

"Why would you set off your rockets and open your wings in the tunnel?" Urania groaned, rubbing her arm that had collided with one of the wings upon landing.

"I didn't do it on purpose! This thing's been buggy ever since I tried to dig all the glass out of it after the bomb went off," Clio said, hastily pecking away at the buttons on her wristband until her wings clumsily folded themselves into the compartment on her back again.

"Then maybe don't wear it until it's working again," Urania said.

"I feel weird without it, I've been wearing it for the past fifty years," Clio said.

"Are you two okay?" Calliope asked at last.

"Just some bruises," Urania sighed. She and Clio made their way over to the group, attempting to readjust their clothing and brush off dirt as they went.

"Good," Calliope said. "Then, let's get started, everyone, come on."

The others came in closer to better communicate, Sandy still content in the large flower. Thalia plopped down in one next to him, seeming delighted at the concept and sending pollen every which way as she did. Polyhymnia immediately began to sneeze once more.

Jack settled himself atop one of the nearby egg statues, still close enough to hear what was happening and be heard if he was so inclined to speak. Euterpe caught his eye from her place beside Terpsichore and she offered him a smile.

Independence Day with her had actually gone all right. They had stolen snow cones, talked about music, and watched fireworks from beside Rowan's grave. It had been almost normal, almost as fun as Independence Day usually was, although he was still reminded every few minutes of Rowan without fail.

It was the closest to thing to "okay" that had happened ever since Rowan had died.

Jack returned Euterpe's smile before returning his attention to Calliope, who was speaking again.

"As you should all be aware, we are gathered here to discuss the information Cupid gave us about Apollo and Artemis, and what exactly we should do about it," Calliope said.

"Maybe we should start with Cupid," Melpomene said, rolling her eyes as Thalia attempted to tickle her with one of the large petals of the flower she was sitting in.

Melpomene took a step to the side, out of the petal's range. Thalia pouted.

"Right, so just to recap, Cupid has been feeding information to Artemis because he thought Artemis could help us. In addition, he's informed us that Artemis picks the Mortal Muse, something that Apollo has been keeping from us," Clio said, seeming more than a bit bitter at the last part.

Jack could certainly sympathize with being left in the dark.

"Originally, we sought to discuss appropriate punishment for Cupid at this time," Calliope said.

"But Apollo beat us to it," Thalia winced.

Erato's lips were pressed into a thin line, and she was doing whatever possible to avoid eye contact with everyone that kept looking her way.

"Well, obviously he's out of the alliance now, right? He wasn't ever officially included in the first place," Bunny said.

"I'm not sure it's that easy, he  _was_  trying to help, and he  _did_  come to us with the information," Tooth pointed out.

"His entire reasoning is Apollo being a terrible leader, and I think the fact that Apollo beat the shit out of him sort of supports that point," Terpsichore said.

"But he went about it in a sneaky, underhanded way that put other people in this alliance at risk," Bunny said.

"I agree with Bunny," North said. "I like Cupid, I sympathize with him and what he was trying to do, but we should not rush to bring him back into the alliance."

"Bringing him back in right now would just piss Apollo off more, I think," Euterpe said.

"So what? Apollo was out of line beating Cupid like he did; he should have let  _us_  handle it. It was a total power play. He can't be assed to help us when we need him but he'll show up to assert his dominance and kick Cupid around?" Terpsichore said. Her irritation seemed to be making her fidget.

"So what, we let him back in to send a message to Apollo?  _That_  will end well," said Thalia.

"Still don't think we should let him back in at all," said Bunny. "In fact I was against him joining up in the first place, if you recall."

"Everything Cupid did was out of love for us," Polyhymnia said, pausing to sneeze into her handkerchief again. She sniffled for a moment before continuing. "I do not agree with the secrets and lies that came along with it, but everything is out in the open now. Anyone that speaks with him can see how truly remorseful he is for the harm he's caused and I personally have full confidence that he will not do anything like this again."

Was being sorry enough? Jack still wasn't sure. All Cupid had been doing was trying to help, true, and it wasn't as though he had any control over what Artemis did.

Hadn't Jack just been trying to help when he voted to bring Pitch in? When he talked to North about getting Cupid involved? Was Cupid's situation with Artemis really that different?

Even Jack had never been punched in the face for one of  _his_  screw ups.

(Tasing was a different story).

"I think we should let him back in, it's not as though he's the only one that's kept secrets," Melpomene said.

"Yeah, well, not too many of us are crazy about  _you_  still being here either," Bunny said to the dark-haired Muse. "It wasn't just  _his_  secrets that put others in harm's way, after all."

"Jamie Bennett is alive because of my secrets," Melpomene said.

"And Rowan Sawyer is dead," Bunny said coldly. The others glanced toward Jack, who did his best to keep a blank expression.

This was another reason he hadn't been attending these meetings recently. It always came back to that full moon in January or that new moon before it. It always came back to the Shadow People.

It always came back to Rowan's death and try as he might, he couldn't stop the image of her lifeless body in the snow from flashing in his mind.

Pale flesh, blue lips, snowflakes clinging to her eyelashes. The way he moved her hair away from her face and fully expected her to open her eyes or swat his hand away. The way she hadn't.

He took a deep breath, trying to will the image away.

"Rowan Sawyer is dead for a number of reasons and you could point fingers at  _several_  people, not just me," Melpomene said. "But I suppose blaming me is the easiest option, isn't it?"

"Listen!" Calliope said, cutting Bunny off before he could respond and no doubt start a full-fledged argument with Melpomene. "If the entire ordeal with the Shadow People and everyone involved has taught us anything, it's this: we need to trust each other. We need to stop trying to undermine each other. We need to stop keeping secrets and do what's best  _for each other._  Especially us Muses. We failed. We shut our sister out to try and spare our own feelings. We gave her no one to trust but Jack Frost and then when we needed her to trust us, she couldn't. We failed her, and when we fail one of us, we fail  _all_  of us and we should know better."

The others fell silent, shifting uncomfortably for a moment.

Calliope was so protective and proud of the Muses. Actually hearing her say so blatantly that they had all failed was eerie.

"Calliope's right, and if Apollo and Artemis are going to start fighting over who's going to be in charge of us, we're going to need to stick together more than ever," Clio said finally.

"Cupid is my son," Erato said, her voice small. The others turned to her, straining to hear. It was clear she was trying to keep her composure as she spoke. "I hate to think that I can't trust him now. It breaks my heart. All I can say is that I hope, as he is a part of this family as much as any of us are, that one day he will be allowed back into this alliance. I did not support him fighting before, but it's in his blood, and his motivation has always been love. He doesn't need to come back today, or any time very soon… but he can't be removed entirely. He's a part of me that isn't going away, and as his powers are a product of both the sun and the moon, the decisions we make affect him, too."

"Why don't we put him on probation?" Jack asked, finally speaking up, glad that if anything the topic had moved away from Rowan for now. "Give him a chance to prove himself. Tell him that he has to cut off contact with Artemis and just keep a close eye on him. After a while we can give him tasks to do and maybe consider letting him back in on meetings."

"I agree, particularly when it comes to cutting off contact with Artemis. He can't be taking sides, none of us should be taking sides yet," Clio said.

"If he should be on any side, should be  _your_ side: the Muse side," North said with a nod.

"Agreed," Calliope said. "All in favor of probation?"

Each of the Muses raised a hand, along with Jack, Sandy, Tooth, and North. Bunny, the only one left not in agreement, sighed dramatically before raising his paw as well.

"It's unanimous, then, we'll tell Cupid to cut all ties with Artemis and give him information only on the strictest need-to-know basis," Calliope said. She sighed. "This brings us to Artemis."

"Okay, why didn't she just come to us if she was so interested in helping us?" Terpsichore said.

"She wanted us to go to her," Melpomene said.

"If the Muses went to Artemis, Apollo would have been upset. But if Artemis went to the Muses, he would have stomped his feet and put an end to it immediately," Tooth said.

"He doesn't want us talking to her at all," Calliope said. "I mean, he didn't even tell us that Artemis would know who the Mortal Muse was when he  _knew_  we needed to find her quickly because he just didn't want us talking to her."

Golden images appeared above Sandy's head, including two figures that were fighting each other.

"True, Artemis and Apollo's rivalry has been going on for ages," North said with a nod. "He probably sees the Muses as some kind of leverage she does not have."

"Or a toy he doesn't want to share," Jack said, remembering the unsettling way Apollo had spoken about Rowan and the Muses in general at the ball.

"He would have definitely thrown a fit and accused her of manipulating us if she had just offered to help us," Urania said.

"That still might have been a better option in the long run," Clio said. "But there's nothing we can do about all of that now.  _Now_  we have to deal with the fact that half the people we need to ally ourselves with are taking her side and the other half are taking Apollo's."

"Maybe I should seek her out, talk to her about what she wants to do," Calliope said.

"We already know she wants you to join up with her instead," Bunny said.

"Would that be a terrible option? After what Apollo did to Cupid?" Erato said. "I always believed that Apollo was working in our best interests but I'm not so sure that's true anymore."

"Both Apollo and Artemis have been deceptive recently, but both have been so good to us in the past. We owe Apollo so much for all he's given us, but Artemis has always been kind to us as well," Polyhymnia said. "I do wish there was a way to remain neutral. I do not want us to become a piece of territory for them to fight over."

"We've been with Apollo since… forever," Euterpe said, turning around to show the astrological symbol for the sun sewn to the back of her vest. "It's not like this is the first time he's been a complete ass, I mean, where do we draw the line?"

"But Apollo is absent most of the time; what if Artemis is around more? What if she's actually, you know, active and useful as a leader?" Terpsichore said.

"So, hypothetically, we switch sides and join up with Artemis," Thalia said. She gestured to the Guardians. "Where does that leave them?"

"What do you mean?" Bunny asked.

"Well, Apollo and Tsar Lunar are allies," Thalia elaborated.

"That's true," Tooth said.

"They didn't start the alliance, though, Sanderson and I did," Calliope said. She turned to the Guardians. "But, I suppose Thalia's right. Our leadership is unclear for the first time ever, and so many have already said that they will only associate with us depending on Apollo or Artemis' involvement. I suppose, it's only appropriate that we ask, well, which side you're on."

What a question, Apollo or Artemis? Which of the two were the Guardians willing to put up with in order to continue this alliance?

Jack wasn't sure. He didn't like Apollo, that much was a no-brainer.

But he had never met Artemis, and only knew that she had caused him to be caught by Shadow People in Paris, and therefore put Rowan in danger.

Talk about a rock and a hard place.

"I cannot speak for all of the Guardians," North said, stepping closer to the Muses. He set a comforting hand to Erato's shoulder. "But I will always support the Muses, with or without Apollo. You all know how important you are to me, how important you were to Yelena. I truly believe that the work you do makes it possible for us to do the work  _we_  do, and that will still be true whoever you choose."

Sandy reached for Calliope's hand, images appearing above his head in rapid succession. "You're right," she said. "We never had leaders in mind when we formed this alliance, just the idea that the Muses and Guardians would always support one another."

Sandy nodded with a warm smile.

"My own history with Apollo and Artemis has been mostly positive on both sides," Tooth said. "I feel as though Artemis might be better suited as a leader, but that's not a call I can make for you. You're some of my dearest friends, though, and I'll support whatever you choose."

"Honestly? I think Apollo is the lesser of the two evils, but I won't be heartbroken if you kick him to the curb either," Bunny shrugged.

All eyes fell to Jack, the only Guardian yet to voice an opinion on the matter.

"I don't know," Jack said with a shrug. "I really don't. I don't like either of them at this point and I don't know enough to say who the better option is."

"Well, thank you all, for not outright taking sides. It's nice to know that it seems that  _this_  alliance will at least still be here," Polyhymnia said.

"But what about Tsar Lunar?" Clio asked. "I don't think he'll support this alliance continuing if for some reason we join up with Artemis."

"He would definitely prefer Apollo," Bunny said. "He and Artemis have  _never_  gotten along. I think she scares him a bit."

"Is this even an option? Switching sides?" Melpomene said. "I've considered what it would be like to be rid of Apollo too, don't get me wrong, but if he's gone through so much trouble to keep us out of contact with Artemis, surely he'll fight to keep us from joining up with her."

"Plus, what if it's not any better with her? And we  _have_  been with Apollo for so long," Urania said.

"Let me be clear, I don't like the idea of outright leaving Apollo. That would  _not_ end well. But I think we have to at least hear Artemis out, especially knowing that Apollo hasn't told us everything," Calliope said. "We need to know all the information before we can make any kind of decision about what's best for us."

"And in the meantime? Either way, Apollo or Artemis, people are refusing to ally with us," Tooth said.

"I honestly don't know," Calliope said, sounding defeated.

"We do not focus on either," North said. "We continue to speak to others, keep good PR, but focus only on Muses and Guardians, not our leaders. Make it clear that they are teaming up with  _us,_  not them."

"Easier said than done," Bunny said.

"We have to try," North said. "There is no telling what Pitch could be up to or when he will do something with those plans he stole. We must do what we can to have the best odds on our side when he finally shows his hand."

"Worst case scenario, even if no one takes our side, we've at least seemed to convince a lot of people not to take Pitch's," Erato said.

"I wouldn't underestimate the Boogey Man," Melpomene said. "He was regaining strength before he stole the plans, and while we all have our reasons not to trust him, he is well-spoken, persuasive."

"He knows your worst fears," Jack said, avoiding looking Melpomene's way. He thought back to the way Pitch had spoken to him in his lair last Easter, the way he had bargained with him in Antarctica. "He knows just what to say to make you second-guess everything."

"And in the long run, he has always failed," North said. "We must remember that, we must remember our strengths."

* * *

Pitch Black's lair was usually quiet; it relied on as much to compliment the eerie atmosphere that he prided himself in creating for anyone that happened upon it.

But for now this was not the case, as an old record player sat nearby, playing some recording of a piano, classical and melancholy. One of the Nightmares watched the device curiously, while another curled up on the floor beside the chair Pitch was seated in, blueprints spread about all around him.

A third Nightmare was looking over the man's shoulder, eying the plans as though it could make heads or tails of what was written there.

"It's unfortunate that I do not possess the knowledge to build upon or modify these plans in any way," Pitch commented to the Nightmare. "Bunny and Clio do possess a knack for machinery that I never did."

The Nightmare nudged the side of Pitch's head, whinnying softly. "Oh, no, no, I'm not concerned. You see, I don't  _have_  to do anything now. The fact that I even have these plans has sent them all into such a panic, I can just sit back and relax, let their steady stream of fear build me up again."

He gently stroked the Nightmare's head, eyes still on the plans. "It is nice to have a break without being weak and forgotten, isn't it, girl? They're trying so hard to stop us before we do anything that they're actually helping us by generating fear. It's my favorite kind of irony, personally."

The Nightmare whinnied again.

"Don't get me wrong, girl, we won't sit around forever. No, no, I have someone in mind that could help us, someone that could modify these plans to be better suited to our own use. All in due time. Let's let them panic a while longer," Pitch said with a smile.

He leaned back in his chair, humming softly along with the record as it played.


	9. Bargaining

_"This is once in a lifetime. Falling in love with a Mortal never has the opportunity to work out this nicely."_

* * *

**Chapter Nine: Bargaining**

* * *

Jack hadn't been in Burgess for long, taking a moment to sit on the Bennetts' roof as the bright summer sun beat down on everything.

A thin layer of frost formed a barrier between himself and the roof. He could handle heat to a certain extent, but burning one's feet on scalding roof tiles was always a possibility and always unpleasant.

He kept his eyes fixed to the edge of the roof, below which was Jamie's bedroom window. It was crazy to think that just a few months ago he could lurk by that window, knock, and be acknowledged and welcomed.

Now it was some kind of terrible game. Would he dare set foot on the lot today? How long would he sit on the roof before peering inside or flying away? How quickly would he flee with his tail between his legs this time?

Would he stay long enough for Jamie to glance toward his window? Would he stick around to find out if Jamie still couldn't see him?

Or would he duck out of sight right away once more, too afraid of the answer?

Maybe checking in on Jamie would be too much for today. He had come by after the meeting because it was impossible not to think of Rowan and Jamie after all that, after all the discussions of the full moon. But perhaps Jack had enough on his mind already, perhaps he should spare himself any more.

Still though, the wind picked up and Jack left the roof, gliding down the side of the house so that he could glance inside the window, open slightly in an attempt to stay cool.

The room was dark and silent, not a soul inside to be seen. The box of notebooks that Rowan had left Jamie was in the middle of the room, its contents spread all around. The notebooks lay open on Jamie's bed and on his desk, a few piled on the floor.

Jack couldn't help but wonder what sort of stories were in these other notebooks, and if Jamie was planning on finishing any, as Rowan had hoped he would. If things were different, he could ask.

But things weren't different. Even if Jamie could still see him, Jack was sure he was still upset, and wouldn't be up to discussing his cousin's work with him.

To think that her stories used to be something they all loved together.

Leaving the empty room behind but keeping the empty feeling close by, Jack let the wind carry him back to his cabin, hardly enjoying the feeling of being airborne as much as he usually did.

Landing near the front door, not feeling up to climbing through the window as per usual, Jack paused, glancing around as he thought he had heard a horse whinny. He saw nothing but the trees and the shadows they cast. Maybe he was hearing things; perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him again.

It was probably time for another brief nap.

Reaching for the door, Jack paused again, hearing the sound once more. It was definitely a horse, no doubt about it.

He tightened his grip on his staff and turned around, scanning the area again. It wasn't as though wild horses just roamed around Burgess.

Could Pitch be nearby? Jack doubted it; the Nightmares could be stealthy when they needed to. Pitch relied on dark and quiet, where one's fearful thoughts would be all the louder.

Maybe it was the Headless Horseman. It wasn't like him to pay Jack a visit, as he was among the many beings that found Jack to be obnoxious, but that didn't necessarily mean he might not be scoping out the area.

"Hm," Jack said, straining to hear anything else. Perhaps it  _had_  been the Horseman, and perhaps he had already passed by. The woods here were a bit creepy, and there had been whispers of the area being haunted ever since Rowan's body had been found by the lake. It wouldn't be surprising if the Horseman, the spirit in charge of Halloween and Horror, the spirit that had rather enjoyed Rowan's company at the ball, would be taking a look.

Either that, or Jack was starting to hallucinate again, but he was certain he wasn't  _that_  tired yet.

Shrugging the sound off, Jack opened the door of his cabin, fully intending to flop down on his bed.

However, that wasn't going to happen.

There was someone standing in his cabin. A white-haired someone with skin like leather and gold jewelry proclaiming that he was somehow important. Jack's hands shifted, gripping the staff at the ready to attack, bracing himself.

"Hey!" Jack said, "What're you doing here?"

"Down, Boy," was Apollo's response. The man sounded amused, barely sparing Jack a glance, favoring examining the photos and drawings on the wall instead.

_"What_  are you  _doing here?"_  Jack demanded again, teeth clenched. The horses he had heard had to be Apollo's, they must be somewhere nearby where the entire chariot would have actually had the space to land. The clearing where Jack's cabin resided was not exactly roomy.

"I'm here to talk to  _you_ , Jack," Apollo said.

"What, like you  _talked_  to Cupid?" Jack said.

"Don't speak of that as though you know the whole story. I gave him life. For nearly two thousand years I have looked out for that boy. I crafted that bow of his. I gave him the opportunity to be great, I gave them  _all_  what they have now. And he betrayed all of that, and in the process put everyone I care about in danger. I have been angry with Cupid in the past and he has failed to learn from his mistakes. Now he will," Apollo said, his tone final, as though that was the end of the discussion. "But as I said, I am here to talk to you."

"And you had to break in to my home to do that?" Jack asked, glancing around as his things and suddenly wondering if they were all in the same place they had been before. How long had he been here? What all had he gone through?

He winced, remembering Rowan's reaction when she learned that Jack had been breaking into her apartment, going through her things.

If she were here, well, Jack could practically hear the sarcastic remarks and taunting  _I told you so_ 's echoing around his ears.

"If you continue to dwell on such small issues, you will drive yourself mad," Apollo said simply. "What I have to say is far more important than a few bruises on Cupid or the fact that you've neglected to put a lock on your front door."

Jack scowled, annoyed, and made a mental note to get a lock. Of course, that meant he would have to start carrying around a key and for some reason that sounded like a lot of work. "What do you want?"

Apollo finally turned to face Jack. He was casually dressed, compared to the suit he had worn to the New Year's Eve Ball when Jack had first met him. Now he wore a white button-up shirt, the top few buttons undone, and a pair of black pants and shoes.

This didn't make him look relaxed, however. If anything, Apollo could wear a paper bag and still come across stern, determined, and aggressive.

"I'm sure you know by now that my sister is trying to gain control of the Muses. She's been saying for years now that I am not fit to lead them, that she would do a better job. But Artemis isn't passionate; she's  _logical._  She doesn't serve the arts, she serves  _necessity,"_  Apollo said, clearly appalled and disgusted to even be discussing his sister in the first place.

Jack opened his mouth to ask why Apollo was telling him this, but the other man simply spoke over him.

"The Muses exist because the arts exist. I created them to use their powers of influence as powers not to control people but to  _inspire_  them. I put them here to make the world a beautiful place. You can learn everything there is to know about art, you can study it until you know every theory and every term, and it won't make you an artist. It takes a spark; it takes passion and creativity. My sister doesn't have that. She wants strategy. She wants statistics. She won't be able to understand the Muses or their work," Apollo said.

"Okay but—" Jack started.

"She is the night to my day, she is dark, she is mysterious, and she is secretive. She uses secrets and lies to manipulate others to get what she wants and she will do the same to the Muses," said the man.

"Isn't that exactly what you do?" Jack said.

Apollo's eyes narrowed. "Think what you will about me, Frost, but everyone knows my intentions and my motives. The only time I've resorted to the tactics my sister employs is when I'm trying to keep the Muses safe and  _away_  from her."

Jack had never met Artemis, he had only heard about her in passing a handful of times. He had no point of reference to tell if there was any truth to what Apollo was saying or if his words were simply that of a bitter competitor about his rival.

From what he knew about Apollo, he wanted to assume the latter.

"Why are you telling me this?" Jack asked. Was there no one else for Apollo to vent about his sister to? Manny was a good listener, why didn't Apollo go to him?

"Because I know that the Muses are  _actually considering_  switching sides and joining up with Artemis," Apollo said. He seemed to be choking back another rant in regards to this development, clearing his throat before continuing. "But the alliance with the Guardians has remained strong through all of this, it's a relationship they value more than you probably realize. That's why I need your help."

_"My_  help?" Jack said, cocking a brow. This widely-worshiped, powerful, arrogant sun god was standing in Jack's humble cabin and asking him for help?

Maybe he  _was_  hallucinating.

"I need you to convince them to stay on my side," Apollo said. "It was your influence that helped get Cupid involved in the first place and it was you that called for the vote that got Pitch Black into the alliance. If you can accomplish that, then this should be a simple task for you."

"Whoa, whoa,  _North_  is really the one that got Cupid involved, I just said it would be a good idea. Actually, if anything, Cupid pestered his way in. And as far as Pitch goes, that's sure to work  _against_  me, if anything," Jack said, though he felt another sharp jab of guilt in his stomach, knowing it was all excuses.

He still felt responsible for vouching for Cupid's involvement, for arguing in favor of Pitch's involvement. He had truly believed that everything he had done was going to be for Rowan's benefit.

There had been benefits from these alliances, sure, but they had also set events into motion that had ultimately led to her death.

"Besides," Jack said. "I think you're over-estimating my influence. I've barely been a Guardian for more than a year now, and the Muses and I are only just now actively trying to be civil."

"I think you're  _under_ estimating your influence," Apollo said. "It's a great tragedy that you've been ignored and invisible for so long; your voice demands to be heard. There's a reason Tsar Lunar picked you, Boy."

Jack wasn't used to getting compliments in general, and when he did, he was used to acting smug about it for laughs. Hearing this from Apollo was strange, though, uncomfortable. He wasn't sure how to take it.

The boy shook his head. "I'm not going to try to convince the Muses to take your side. You should talk to them yourself, I'm not involved."

"Oh?" Apollo said, holding up one of the Polaroids that had been pinned to the wall, Rowan's smiling face featured there. "Not involved?"

"Give me that!" Jack said, snatching the photograph back, holding it protectively.

"Artemis picks the Mortal Muse," Apollo said. "But  _I_  am the one that brings them back as Muses."

Jack glanced at the picture, one of the tangible pieces of proof that he had that Rowan Sawyer had once been alive and well, that she had once been happy and breathing and  _living_. He looked back at Apollo, heart pounding, "What are you saying?"

"Tell me, is there really any reason to create another Muse if they're all going to just run off and join my sister instead? How does that benefit me at all?" Apollo asked, waving his hand about until there was a bright light in the middle of the cabin, a sparkling rendition of Rowan's form.

The image, crafted from the light, hurt to look at. Though when Jack closed his eyes, she was still there, burned into his vision.

"You don't need to be a love god to know how deeply you felt for her," Apollo said, lurking behind Jack now and setting a hand to either of the boy's shoulders. "Her death was a mistake, an unfortunate accident that could have been avoided. She was so young, so beautiful; she had  _so much_  potential. Surely you've thought about the life she missed out on, the life  _you_  missed out on with her. You love her so much, you've surely thought to yourself that you'd do anything to undo what happened."

They say that there's five stages of grief, and one of these stages is bargaining. It would be a lie to say that Jack had not considered all the small choices and decisions he could have gone about differently to perhaps prevent her death. It would be a lie to say that he had not found himself lying awake at night, thinking of all the things he would gladly give up to get her back.

It would be a lie to say that he had not thought that he would do anything to undo what happened.

He chanced opening his eyes again to watch the image of Rowan that Apollo had conjured up, feeling sick knowing that it wasn't real.

"I'm giving you a chance to undo what happened, Frost," Apollo said. "If the Muses stay with me, a tenth would be a delightful addition. A Muse of Illustrative Art is long overdue. Not only would you have her back, but she would be immortal, like you, making a life with her that much easier."

An immortal. Like him.

Rowan didn't want that. She had made that clear when she was still alive that living forever sounded like a terrible burden and that she didn't want to be a Muse.

But the idea of a second chance made him more hopeful than it probably should. He liked the idea of no longer worrying that she was going to age and out-grow him. He liked the idea of no more lies or cover stories. He liked the idea of actually entertaining long-term plans because the things that had been problems before would no longer be problems.

He missed her.

"This is once in a lifetime. Falling in love with a Mortal never has the opportunity to work out this nicely," Apollo said, waving his hand through the image of Rowan, causing it to fade out and disappear. "If you can assure that the Muses will stay with me, I can assure that come January, you'll have her back."

Jack swallowed, glancing back at the photograph again.

Provided that he could even pull off what Apollo was asking, was this really a decision he should be making for Rowan? Particularly when he knew it went against her wishes?

He knew she was content where she was, that she was fine with being dead.

Bitterly, he had to wonder if it was too much to ask that she could be content here, with him, as well.

Making a deal with Apollo didn't feel right.

"I'll tell you what," Apollo said, stepping to the cabin door. "You take some time and think about it."

As if Jack could possibly think of anything else now.

* * *

Artemis greeted Calliope like an old friend, pulling her into a warm embrace and kissing her cheek.

Calliope supposed that in a way, they  _were_  old friends. Artemis had always been good to the Muses in the past. It wasn't until everything with Cupid was revealed that any of them had felt particularly negative toward the moon goddess.

Artemis had a tendency to be there when Apollo was not. She was there through Erato's pregnancy and Cupid's birth. She had helped calm early, vicious arguments between Thalia and Melpomene. She was a wonderful listener when she was around.

It was rare for Apollo to react to any of this positively. He seemed convinced that everything Artemis did was an attempt to steal the Muses away from him, to turn them against him.

It was easier not to speak with Artemis as much than it was to deal with Apollo's seemingly irrational anger.

But that was just it, wasn't it? As Artemis made herself comfortable near the fire in a beautiful clearing and gestured for Calliope to do the same, Calliope couldn't help but wonder just how irrational Apollo's anger had been.

After all, wasn't he correct? Wasn't Artemis out to lead the Muses herself?

"I am so glad that we finally get to talk, Calliope," Artemis said pleasantly as the Muse took a seat.

"So am I," Calliope said, forcing a smile. Her eyes caught a doe in the bushes, watching them curiously.

"I suppose we should just get right to it then, shouldn't we? I'm sure you know by now, I want the Muses to leave Apollo's rule," Artemis said. The doe walked over cautiously, stopping by Artemis, who gently pet the creature's head.

"And start living under yours," Calliope added. The doe curled up beside Artemis, who continued to stroke the creature's fur. Artemis always had a way with animals. Animals were supposed to be a good judge of character, weren't they?

"Precisely," Artemis said with a nod.

"I'm not sure it's that easy, Artemis, we've been with Apollo for… well, forever," Calliope said.

"Change is good, dear, and it's necessary. I'll take so much better care of you than my brother has," Artemis said. The doe closed her eyes contently, like a well-behaved dog as Artemis rubbed her ear.

"I don't know," Calliope sighed. "We're… well, we're not so comfortable with what you did with Cupid and the Shadow People."

"I understand, and I apologize for the unfortunate events that followed," Artemis nodded. "But with Apollo out of the way, such tactics won't be necessary."

Calliope was unsure what to say about that, glancing back toward the fire in silence. She wanted to ask why Artemis wouldn't just put up with Apollo's backlash and just help them anyway, but knew it wasn't that easy.

As stated earlier, it was easier to just avoid Apollo's anger.

"Listen, what is my brother offering you that's good enough to stay, hm? He hardly talks to you directly, it's always through messenger. Only  _Tsar Lunar_ ," Artemis said the name as though it left a bitter taste in her mouth, "speaks to the Guardians less than Apollo speaks to you."

"This is true," Calliope said with a sigh. It had long been one of her great frustrations with Apollo.

"Besides, it's a bit archaic, isn't it? One man in charge of nine powerful women? Keeping an eye on them like they're his fragile little playthings?" Artemis asked. "Not to mention all the people that assume you all must have slept with him."

Calliope made a face, disgusted at the concept. It was true, though, that it was often assumed that the Muses must also be sexual playthings for Apollo.

"It's disgusting, and condescending," Artemis continued. "I'm the goddess of women, you know it would be different with me. We would be ten amazing, inspirational women. A force to be reckoned with. We would show them all just how capable we could be."

It was a nice concept, it really was. Artemis was a strong woman, a strong woman offering to be a more available leader than Apollo ever was. She was a strong woman offering a new image for the Muses.

After what had happened during the full moon back in January, a new image might not be a bad thing.

"Not to mention, I know about the, uh, incident with the bomb," Artemis said, as though reading Calliope's mind. "If and when that gets out, you'll need as many allies as you can get, because the public opinion of the Muses and Guardians is going to take a turn for the worst. You need to do damage control now so you don't end up the people that almost made an entire group of mythical beings go extinct  _and_  killed a mortal girl all in one night. I know it's more complicated than that and  _you_  know it's more complicated than that, but no one's going to listen once they're angry.

"And that's where I come in. Athena is my dear friend and would, of course, be on our side if you were to join up with me. Then there's the nymphs, the Nü Gui, the banshees, Baba Yaga, and that's just the tip of the iceburg."

Calliope had to hand it to Artemis, she had used the information Cupid had given her to her advantage and come up with a great strategy to make her seem like not only the better choice for leader, but possibly the only choice.

"But what about everyone that will only be on our side if we're with Apollo?" Calliope had to ask.

"Sacrifices have to be made," Artemis said, waving away Calliope's concern. "Although, that does remind me of one condition I do have."

"Yes?" Calliope asked. Wasn't potentially switching sides already a huge condition? Wasn't Apollo's inevitable rage already a huge condition?

"You, of course, know all about how I feel about Tsar Lunar," Artemis said. Calliope winced and nodded. It wasn't much of a secret that Artemis and the Man in the Moon had a huge disagreement over who rightfully had control and claim over the moon.

Tsar Lunar argued that the moon was his parents' space ship and therefore it belonged to him. Artemis argued that the moon hadn't been useful as a spaceship in thousands of years, and as it had loitered in it's gravitational pull for that entire time, it belonged to the earth. She argued that since so many people  _on_  the earth had worshiped her in association with the moon, she had a greater claim to it than he did.

The disagreement hadn't escalated to much, mostly because Tsar Lunar seemed unwilling to actually engage in any conflict with Artemis.

Because of this, the goddess viewed him as a terrible, terrible coward.

"If you were to join with me," Artemis said, "You would have to cut all ties with him. That means that your alliance with the Guardians? That would be over."

Calliope's heart seemed to drop into her stomach at the notion. The doe curled up closer to Artemis, blissfully unaware of the giant condition that the woman had just dropped.

"We can't do that, we've… we've been allies with the Guardians for—" Calliope started.

"For about as long as you've been with Apollo. Like I said, change is necessary, and it is good," Artemis said with a nod. "With all the allies I'll bring to the table, you won't need them. Their blind attachment to a leader that won't even spare them the time for a conversation isn't just holding  _them_  back, it's holding all of you back."

Calliope shook her head. "It's not that easy, it's not  _just_  politics, Artemis! They are our allies, yes, but they're also our friends. Not to mention, Sanderson and I—"

"Perhaps you've gotten comfortable," Artemis suggested. "You're so used to them, so used to the Sandman. They're familiar and easy to deal with. But don't you deserve something challenging, Calliope? Something more exciting than familiar? You and the other Muses have the potential for so much more than childhood superstitions can offer."

"Sanderson is a great man, he's a great warrior and a great artist," Calliope said, nostrils flaring and eyes narrowing. "I will not have you speak of him that way."

"Who do you care about more, Calliope? Your boyfriend or your sisters? Because if you stay with the Guardians, if the full extent of the damage the bomb caused gets out, you will go down with them. I'm offering you a way out," Artemis said.

"Bunny  _and_  Clio made that bomb. The Guardians and the Muses are in this together, there's not another option," Calliope said, hoping to reason with the other woman.

"I'll tell you what," Artemis said, focusing her attention to the doe. "You take some time and think about it."


	10. Defiance

_"It's so stupid to be considering something like this to prove something to everyone else. That's precisely the last reason anyone should do such a thing, particularly in this day and age."_

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Defiance**

* * *

Clio rarely entertained more than one person at a time. Two or three was about as excessive as her guest list usually got and that normally worked out just fine, as the long table in her workshop that was  _supposed_  to be a dinning table was mostly covered in unfinished inventions, open books, random notes, and tools.

So, when Calliope had said that the Muses needed to have a meeting and it was decided that Clio's workshop was the most appropriate place, Clio had stared at her table in dismay.

She never intended for it to get so messy, somehow it just always… happened.

In the time it took Urania to track down all the other Muses, Clio had worn herself out shoving books on overflowing shelves, inventions into closets, and toolboxes under her couch.

The other Muses were unsurprised to find her hastily wiping dust and motor oil off the surface of the table when they arrived.

"I do hope these tunnels you're having Bunny dig for us will have a common area," Polyhymnia said, setting a tea set down at the center of the table. "That might be easier to keep clean, and at least then we'll have a designated place for meetings."

"It will," Clio said with a nod, beginning to pour tea for the others. "I'm looking forward to more storage, honestly."

"I don't think that'll make a difference, you'll just hoard  _more_  things," Thalia said, shifting in her seat before pulling a wrench from beneath the cushion. Visibly baffled, she set the tool on the table.

"I am not a hoarder," Clio said.

"So, you'd be totally okay with me throwing away this… um, whatever this is, then," Euterpe said, holding some kind of contraption with a hand crank and springs poking out in all directions that had been beneath the table.

Clio snatched the item from the younger Muse and held it protectively. "Don't you dare, I need this."

Terpsichore covered her mouth and let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like,  _"Hoarder!"_

"This isn't an intervention for Clio," Calliope said, helping to pass the tea cups around the table as Clio gently set the strange contraption on a nearby shelf.

"Yeah we'll save that for when we can't even walk in here," Erato smiled.

"Please tell me this is about the rumors going around," Melpomene said, stirring her tea lazily.

"What rumors?" Calliope asked.

"The Horseman  _and_  Maman Brigitte stopped me to say that they had heard we were cutting ties with the Guardians," Melpomene said. The other Muses began chattering right away, surprised and confused by this information.

_"Wait, seriously?"_

" _Where would they get that idea?"_

_"Where would they have heard that?"_

Calliope tried to shush the others, face falling at this news.

"Maman Brigitte and the rest of her family are already decidedly neutral, she just wanted in on some gossip," Melpomene said.

"What about the Horseman? A couple months ago you said he'd support us if things took a turn," Thalia asked.

"Not without the Guardians, he won't," Melpomene said. "He said if we're willing to cut ties with them after  _centuries,_  then it's too risky to chance a partnership with us. I told him it wasn't true, but judging by Calli's face, well…"

All eyes fell to Calliope, who was frowning deeply and suddenly very interested in the sugar cube dissolving in her tea.

"Calliope, what happened? Did something happen with Artemis?" Polyhymnia asked.

"I've heard whispers, too, I thought it was nonsense," Urania said.

"Artemis offered her allies and promised to be a more present leader than Apollo. She promised a new image, a fresh start, something bigger than all of us, something  _empowering_ ," Calliope said, her tone not matching the wonderful things she was saying in the least.

"Well, that all sounds promising," Clio said.

"So what's the catch? Aside from the wrath of the sun god, obviously," said Thalia, having gathered a few mismatched teaspoons and attempting to stack them.

"And what does it have to do with the Guardians?" Erato asked.

"She said that if we join up with her, we have to cut all ties to Tsar Lunar and the Guardians," Calliope said. Again, the air was thick with gasps and exclamations.

_"Is she insane?"_

_"We've been allies for ages!"_

_"Well, I mean, we've also been with Apollo for ages and here we are…"_

_"The Guardians are the whole reason we survived the whole ordeal with the Shadow People!"_

_"Does she expect us to just cease all contact? Toothiana is one of our dearest friends."_

_"North opened his home to us to keep us safe; we're supposed to turn our backs on him now?"_

_"What about Cupid? He follows Tsar Lunar, too, or did she forget?"_

"She doesn't want us to have anything to do with Tsar Lunar, and that means nothing to do with the Guardians. She basically told me to pick between all of you and Sanderson," Calliope said, raising her voice in order to be heard over her sisters.

"That bitch!" Erato said. Polyhymnia cast her a disapproving glance. "Sorry, I know you hate that word but  _that bitch._  How does she expect you to choose? You've loved Sanderson since… since you were the only Muse!"

"And I love all of you," Calliope said. "So where does that leave me if Artemis ends up being the better option?"

"Well, that's just it, she's not the better option if she's going to throw this condition in there," Euterpe said. A few of the others mumbled in agreement.

"So we stay with Apollo, who lied to us and neglected us?" Calliope said.

"I'd just like to say that I wouldn't mind cutting ties with the Guardians," Melpomene said with a shrug. "They get so… self-righteous."

"But if we cut ties with them then you can't make Jack uncomfortable on a regular basis by simply existing," Thalia pointed out, still carefully balancing her teaspoons.

"Oh, that's true…" Melpomene sighed. "And I do like when Bunny gets mad."

"Look, this shouldn't even be up for debate. The sun, the moon, the stars, whoever, none of that was at play when Calliope and Sanderson formed this alliance. No one else should be able to use it as a bargaining chip," Clio said.

"But they are," Polyhymnia said, glumly sipping her tea.

"How do people already know about this? Artemis  _just_  told you," Erato asked Calliope.

"I'd wager that Apollo or Artemis let some information out so there's more public pressure for us to pick one of them," Calliope sighed.

"They both suck so much right now," Terpsichore practically whined.

"Well, I guess we go with Apollo, then, if he's not going to make us cut ties with the Guardians," Urania said.

"Okay, but what happens the next time Apollo gets mad or gets jealous? The next time he needs a power play? He might do what Artemis is doing now and tell us to cut ties," Euterpe said.

"It shouldn't even be up to them, this is ridiculous!" Clio groaned.

"You're right, it shouldn't," Calliope said.

"So, we stand our ground," Erato said. "Artemis or Apollo, either way, the alliance with the Guardians stays. Artemis went through all this trouble and scheming to get to us, I doubt that's going to be enough to make her bow out."

"And what about everyone else? We can't look like we're fickle with our alliances, these rumors are going to keep spreading," Clio pointed out, watching as Thalia carefully set another teaspoon to her tower.

Melpomene casually plucked one of the spoons from the bottom, sending the entire tower clattering to the table's surface.

Thalia pouted, shoulders slumping.

"We've got to make some kind of statement," Melpomene said, twirling the spoon between her fingers. "So that they all know that alliance isn't going anywhere. I could sleep with Jack again."

"No," Euterpe said immediately.

"Haven't you destroyed enough lives?" Thalia said, gesturing to the remains of her teaspoon tower.

"That won't prove anything except that misery turns you on, which I'd argue most everyone already knows," Clio said.

"Do let the boy grieve without interfering, Mel," Polyhymnia tsked.

"Oh, I was  _joking_ ," Melpomene said with a dramatic sigh.

"She's right though," Urania said.

"You want to have sex with Jack?" Thalia said, cocking a brow as she tried to reconstruct her teaspoon tower, a fair distance from Melpomene.

"Uh, no, I'm still asexual, last I checked," Urania cringed.

"Well Erato's always saying sexuality is fluid and all that. Besides, at this point maybe we should give him a punch card. A 'Frequent Muse Bedding' card, if you will. Ten stamps and you get a free therapy session," Thalia said. "Sex with Melpomene is worth twenty stamps."

Terpsichore snorted, nudging Erato with her elbow. "Get North one, too."

_"I told you_ , nothing's happened!" Erato hissed.

"I  _meant_  that Melpomene's right, that we need to make a statement," Urania said hoping to bring the conversation back to more important matters, "Make sure it's clear to everyone that we're standing by the Guardians, and vice-versa. That even though our leadership situation is…  _complicated_  right now, that alliance is strong."

"Well, it's not like we can hold a press conference," Clio said.

"I could do something with the stars," Urania suggested.

"Not everyone knows how to read those," Euterpe pointed out.

"I think," Calliope said hesitantly, "I might know the perfect thing. But I must discuss it with Sanderson."

She stood from the table, setting her teacup aside before heading for the door.

"Wait, you're going now?" Thalia asked.

"Yes, I think we're done here, Sisters. Erato, do be a dear and fill North in, I'm sure he'll hear about this soon enough. He'll let the other Guardians know we're not going anywhere," Calliope called over her shoulder as she pushed her way through the door.

In a flash of light, she took the form of a bird and flew off.

* * *

Jack hadn't gotten a bit of sleep since speaking to Apollo the previous day. It had to be showing, judging by the look of concern that passed North's features the moment Jack stumbled into his workshop, rubbing his tired, bloodshot eyes.

Before North could bother asking, not to mention lecturing  _yet again_  about the importance of sleep to one's overall health, Jack explained that he had been up all night because Apollo had visited him. North had closed the door to his workshop for something resembling privacy while Jack relayed everything that Apollo had said to him.

"I don't know what to do with this. She didn't want this, but… do I just leave it alone and spend forever wondering if I could have gotten her back? All I've wanted since she died was to undo it," Jack said, sitting atop the table, legs folded beneath him and hood up.

"And now Apollo is offering you an opportunity to do so," North said with a slight grunt, his brow furrowed and his hand absentmindedly stroking his beard in thought.

"Right," Jack said. "I can't just, I mean, I can't  _ignore_  something like this, right?"

"You want me to tell you to take him up on it," North said, eying the boy skeptically.

"No, I mean, I want you to tell me what you think I should do," Jack said, eyes fixed on his staff and mind racing with possible outcomes. "I just, I don't have any idea."

"I think you do," North said. "I think you know exactly the right thing to do, but it is not the thing you  _want_  to do."

Jack's thumb, which had been outlining one of the grooves in his staff, came to a stop, along with his erratic train of thought. He peeked back at North from beneath his hood, hesitantly.

"I… I mean, I…" Jack started before clearing his throat. "I don't know."

"Yes, you do," North said, staring the boy down. Did he seem disappointed? Disappointed in Jack's indecision, disappointed in the way he kept avoiding what the clear answer was?

This was ludicrous. As Jack had made clear several times, North was not his parent. North had no room to be forcing him to go to bed for "his own good," or lecturing him, or judging him, or  _being disappointed in him._

And Jack had no room to feel guilty about it.

But the fact was that after a terrible, conflicting night, it only made sense to go to the North Pole. When he didn't know what to do, North seemed like the person to ask.

When he had to talk to someone and Rowan wasn't an option, North was.

And so, here Jack was, sitting beneath North's critical gaze and feeling guilty.

He groaned. "It's not that easy!"

"What's not?" North said.

Jack was growing more and more frustrated by the minute. North wanted Jack to  _say it,_  to acknowledge and get to the answer by himself.

He was starting to think he might just prefer a lecture, rather than be forced to say what he was thinking aloud.

"She told me she didn't want this," Jack said. "She said it several times, she had no interest in coming back as a Muse. The right thing to do would be to leave it alone, the right thing to do would be  _not_  to try and make it more likely she'll come back."

"Because you love her, and you respect her, and you  _know_  that is what she wanted," North said, as though Jack may have forgotten and needed reminding.

"Right," Jack said, staring at the floor now rather than North.

"But you are struggling because while you know all of that, you miss her," North said.

"Right," Jack said again.

"I know this means very little now, but eventually you will accept her choice," North said.

"Like you did with Yelena?" Jack said.

"Yes," North nodded.

"But it's not the same, North," Jack said with a sigh. "Yelena  _lived_. She got a life! She got a full life with everything she wanted and when she died it felt  _finished_. Rowan didn't get any of that. She never got to finish school, she has so many stories she never finished; she never got to grow old or have a family or any of the long-term things she wanted. I kind of have to wonder if she would have felt the same way about immortality if she had known for certain that she was going to die right after turning twenty."

North walked over to Jack, setting a heavy hand to the boy's shoulder. "It is tragic, such wasted potential," North said. "But Jack, you cannot make this decision for her."

"Apollo made it for all the other Muses," Jack mumbled.

"And you aspire to be like Apollo?" North said, cocking a brow. "He who has to bribe Jack Frost with a lost love to try and get the Muses back on his side?"

"No," Jack said, shaking his head. He wasn't quite sure  _what_  point he was trying to make with that comment.

"If he brings Rowan back against her wishes, she will resent him. Do not make her resent you, too," North said.

"You think he might still bring her back?" Jack asked.

North shrugged. "The Muses may still choose to stay with him without your help. Besides, I would take any offer from Apollo with grain of salt. I will not pretend to be a close friend of the man, but I know him well enough to say that the idea that he would offer  _anyone_  such a favor makes me skeptical."

"So, he might be full of shit," Jack said with a frown.

"Apollo looks out for himself and the Muses, first and foremost," North said. "And he knows that Rowan's fate is power that he has over you. You do not have to  _give_  him that power."

"Easier said than done," Jack said.

So, what if he did nothing? Left everything alone and let Apollo do whatever he was going to do? What if Rowan was truly gone forever?

Could he spend the rest of his life wondering if the offer had actually been legitimate or not?

But what if Apollo was the wrong choice? What if he did manage to somehow convince the Muses to stay with him and things went terribly wrong? What if Rowan came back only to be ruled by the worst Apollo had to offer?

The right thing to do was to just let things happen and not interfere. But that required, well, doing  _nothing_ , and Jack didn't like that idea. He already hated the notion of sitting around and waiting to see what would happen when the anniversary of her death came around.

The past few months had dragged, and there were still a few more to go.

There was a knock on the door.

"I can tell them to come back another time," North offered Jack.

The boy shook his head. "No, no, I'm fine. Thanks."

North gave Jack a smile before walking to the door of his workshop and opening it, finding Erato on the other side.

"Have your sources told you anything about the alliance?" she asked immediately.

"No, but I haven't gotten my reports for the day yet, why?" North asked.

Erato stepped inside and North closed the door behind her. "You'd better sit down, I have a lot to tell you. Jack, you might want to stick around, too."

* * *

Calliope sat on one of Sandy's dream clouds, the small Guardian standing beside her and gently sending streams of dream sand every which way. It was a beautiful, clear night, and the lights of the closest city were distant enough that the stars were bright and sparkling in the sky.

It was truly a beautiful sight to behold, but Calliope was not watching the stars. Her eyes were fixed on Sandy, always intrigued and impressed by the way he cast his beautiful visions down to the mortal world below.

"I know we had basically said we weren't going to do this, that there wasn't any need to at this point," Calliope was saying, a slight tremble in her voice as she spoke. She tried clearing her throat, hoping it would go away.

Sandy cast her a friendly glance to acknowledge that while he might still be tending to his dream sand, he was very much listening.

"And as I'm sure you're aware, I don't, I mean, I'm not asking you to prove anything to  _me._  I know precisely how you feel about me and I'm sure you know very well how I feel about you, and some, well, some silly showy ceremony isn't going to change any of that," Calliope continued, tucking a loose curl behind her ear and mentally urging herself to sound less nervous.

Sandy sent off one last stream of dream sand before settling beside her, amusement dancing across his face.

"It's so stupid to be considering something like this to prove something to everyone else. That's precisely the last reason anyone should do such a thing, particularly in this day and age. We wouldn't be doing it for ourselves, we would be doing it for the alliance, so I completely understand if you say no, Sanderson," Calliope said. "Although, I should add that, I mean, political pressure isn't the  _only_  reason I'm suggesting this, it just felt like the obvious choice given the circumstances and the fact that we love each other and have been together for so long."

Sandy cocked a brow, dream sand beginning to swirl and take shape above his head. Silhouettes popped above his head in quick succession, much quicker than he might "speak" with anyone else. Calliope's skilled eyes watched the dream sand before smiling, sheepishly.

"Yes, yes, I suppose this  _is_  my entirely unromantic way of proposing to you," she said with a sigh. "Okay, okay, let's… let's start over."

She straightened her posture a bit, taking his hand in hers. "For the greater good of the alliance, it has become clear that a statement needs to be made. A statement that shows the world as clearly as possible that we have no intention of breaking ties with each other."

Another few images popped above Sandy's head, which he tilted slightly, though still smiling.

"I know it's still more political than romantic, I'm getting there," Calliope laughed. "Sanderson Mansnoozie, you have been my best friend for so long that it's become increasingly difficult to even remember a time that I didn't  _know_ you, much less love you. We have seen each other at our worst and at our best. No one knows me like you do, and no one makes me happy like you do. Our love has done nothing but grow over the years and I know it will only continue to grow in the future.

"Imagining a life without you is too painful for words, and as a Muse, you'd think I'd be able to come up with a few. You and I both know this is forever, that we intend to see this through to the end. I think now is the perfect time to make all of that official. Despite disagreements and annoying little quirks, at the end of each day, it's you I love, and it's you I dream about when I go to sleep. You are my sweet dreams at night and the daydreams that make me smile when the sun is out. You inspire me more than anything else in the world. So, Sanderson, will you make it official with me? Will you stand with me and show the world just what we mean to each other? Will you marry me?"

Sandy smiled, leaning forward and pressing his lips to Calliope's, who gladly returned the favor.

"Was that romantic enough?" she teased when they broke apart. Sandy silently chuckled.

They pulled away far enough for Calliope to properly examine the figures appearing above Sandy's head. She recognized the two of them, back when they first met. She had stuck to him like glue for what seemed like ages, having no one else around to guide her through her new immortal life. After she seemed to get the hang of it, they had taken their separate ways, certain that she would be fine without him.

But despite their efforts to lead separate lives, they never went too long without crossing paths again, always overjoyed to see the other. She knew that there had been times when she had sought him out and then claimed to have run into him purely by coincidence, and later he had admitted to doing the same.

They had started the alliance: a promise to always look out for and support each other, whatever life may throw their way. Somewhere along the way, they had fallen in love. It was hard to pinpoint exactly when, much like trying to remember the exact time you fell asleep and began to dream.

More Muses and Guardians joined the ranks and the world around them changed drastically. There were more people, more work, and more distractions.

And yet, they were always there. It didn't matter if they had grown busy and preoccupied with their own work, they would inevitably find each other again, picking up precisely where they left off. Their company was a comfort, like coming home after a long, hard day.

Calliope was his home, and Sandy was hers.

Once these images were through appearing above Sandy's head, he offered her a nod, indicating that he accepted her proposal.

She smiled. "You're sure?"

He nodded again.

She kissed him once more, smile still fixed to her face. "We're getting married. Wait until the others hear about this…"


	11. Tais-Toi Mon Coeur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title translates to "Shut Up My Heart," which sounds a lot nicer in French, honestly. It's the title of a French song I very much enjoy.

_This was a happy occasion. He should be happy._

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Tais-Toi Mon Coeur**

* * *

The rumors that the Guardians the Muses were breaking up their alliance had barely had a chance to start spreading (and, consequently, start worrying their other allies) before Calliope and Sandy called a meeting, claiming that they had a solution to this problem.

Everyone was settled in the Warren again, safely out of Apollo and Manny's prying eyes. Polyhymnia rubbed at her eyes, sniffling the whole way, still very much allergic to  _something_ , if not everything, that was growing around them.

Jack leaned against the nearby egg statue lazily, mind still spinning from everything that had happened since the last meeting. Hopefully Calliope and Sandy truly were offering up solutions this time, rather than more problems.

"I don't know what it is, it's not as though I've never been around plants before," Polyhymnia sighed.

"Had I known we would be having another meeting this soon, I would have tried to get you something for it," Bunny said.

"I appreciate the thought, Bunnymu—" Polyhymnia stopped speaking in order to sneeze again.

"I think I have a book that has an allergy remedy in it, I'll look for it after the meeting," Clio said.

"Sorry! Am I late? More lost teeth than usual today, usually it doesn't get this bad until around Halloween," Tooth said, as she darted in through one of the nearby tunnels, a handful of mini fairies in tow. She was the last that they were waiting on.

"You're fine, Toothiana," Calliope said. The eldest Muse had seemed nervous while waiting for the others to arrive.

Jack was used to seeing Calliope on edge due to the stress of having to be a stand-in leader for Muses, not to mention the always-serious matters that had to be discussed at these meetings. Today, however, she seemed nervous in an almost excited way.

The winter spirit had seen a lot more of Calliope over the past few months, and had begrudgingly come to respect her after resenting her for so long, but it was still very strange to see her expressing anything close to joy.

She would always be the stern, no-nonsense, assertive representative of the Muses to him.

"Now that everyone's here, I suppose, let's get to it," Calliope said. The others silenced their outside discussions and turned to watch Calliope and Sandy. "As you all know, there are a growing number of people skeptical of our alliance. With everything else going on, we can't have that threatening our chances to make and keep other alliances. It's important that we make a statement that shows everyone that the alliance between the Guardians and the Muses is still strong and not about to go anywhere."

"So does that mean you're turning Artemis down?" Bunny asked. Jack watched Calliope expectantly.

If the Muses went with Apollo on their own, it would at least take  _one_  burden off his shoulders. Apollo would no longer expect  _him_  to try to convince them of anything.

"Not necessarily," Calliope said.

Of course, it couldn't be that easy.

"So, what sort of statement are we going to make, then?" Clio asked.

"Do you want to tell them, or should I?" Calliope said, glancing back at Sandy, who gestured back to her, as though to say that she should do it. She nodded and cleared her throat, turning her attention back to the others. "Sanderson and I are getting married."

The sentence had barely passed her lips before the entire Warren erupted in statements of surprise at the news. Jack's own eyebrows shot upward, never picturing Sandy as the marrying type.

Although to be fair, before a few months ago, Jack had never pictured Sandy as the dating type, either.

"We're going to have a wedding! Congratulations!" Erato said, throwing her arms around the couple.

"Marriage for political gain, how old-school of you," Melpomene commented with a slight laugh.

"Thought you two always said you weren't getting married," Bunny said, cocking a brow.

"We never felt like we had to. After all these years together, I mean, we never had anything to prove," Calliope said. Sandy nodded, images flashing above his head as though to say that the timing is right and the alliance needs this, so why not make things official?

Jack could sympathize with Calliope's statement, he supposed. He had spent so long watching marriage evolve and watching so many marriages fall apart that he hardly saw the point in signing a piece of paper to prove that you loved someone.

Immortality only complicated things further. "'Til death do us part," was much longer when neither of the parties involved were going to die any time soon. It seemed sort of daunting to make such a commitment.

Not to mention, it was easy to grow bitter about such a concept after spending centuries alone. Jack had sort of resigned himself to the idea that marriage was never going to be a possibility anyway.

There were some things that were just never going to be an option when you spent most of your time invisible and in solitude.

(Or, when the girl you fell in love with after years of solitude was a mortal whose friends and family could not see you, and who was going to out-grow you and die long before you.)

But, this was about more than a piece of paper. Sandy and Calliope had been together for a period of time so long that Jack could hardly wrap his mind around it.

This wasn't just to make a point about their relationship, it was so that no one, Artemis, Apollo, or otherwise, could attempt to break the alliance up again.

Jack might not have been thrilled when he had learned that the alliance between the Muses and the Guardians existed in the first place, but it was hard to deny its importance, especially after the full moon back in January.

"If this is what you want and you are happy, than I am happy for you, my friends," North said with a smile, embracing Calliope and Sandy once Erato had released them from her grasp.

Happiness. Right, Jack shouldn't be standing here, dwelling over his personal thoughts and feelings over marriage. He had never had a close friend get married before, but he imagined that sulking in the corner over one's own bitter opinion of the institution of marriage was not the polite response.

He should try to be happy for Sandy.

He was the Guardian of  _Fun_ , wasn't he? The boy forced a smile, hoping it looked sincere.

"When are you getting married?" Tooth asked.

"As soon as we get everything together, we think in about a month," Calliope said, catching her breath after North's spine-crushing embrace.

"Arachne is going to be  _so_  excited, she loves making wedding dresses," Thalia said with a grin.

"Is it going to be a big wedding?" Terpsichore asked.

Sandy shrugged, the silhouettes above his head implying that it would be "big enough."

Jack wondered what "big enough" meant, thinking back to the amount of mythical beings that had attended the New Year's Eve ball. He kneeled down and clapped Sandy on the shoulder, offering him a congratulations.

This was a  _happy_  occasion. He should be  _happy_.

But instead, he kept thinking about Rowan and his smile grew more and more forced.

Goddamn it, this wasn't  _about_  Jack or his missed opportunities! It was about Sandy! It was about Calliope! It was about keeping the alliance together no matter what Artemis or Apollo did!

He tried to focus on all of that instead, listening to the others as they continued to ask about wedding details.

"Where is it going to be?" Polyhymnia asked.

"Oh, Poly, are you crying?" Calliope said, looking concerned.

"Allergies, though I am  _very_  happy for you, sister," Polyhymnia said with a smile and a sniffle. "So, where is it going to be?"

"Sandy's island, we think," Calliope said. "And all my sisters will be bridesmaids, of course."

_"Duh_ ," Thalia said.

"As though you could get away with  _not_  having us as bridesmaids," Erato said.

Sandy turned toward the Guardians, images appearing above his head quickly, all ending with a question mark. From what Jack gathered, the man was asking if they would be his groomsmen and stand with him at the wedding.

Jack hadn't been to a wedding since becoming immortal, and as previously stated, he had never had a friend get married. Unsurprisingly, he had never been part of anyone's wedding party.

It surprised him in the same way he had been surprised to be invited to spend Christmas with the rest of them. It was a simple gesture, but it was one of close friends, family.

"Would be an honor to stand with you, of course," North nodded.

"Definitely, Sandy," Bunny agreed. "Just as long as I don't have to write a speech or something…"

"Sign me up!" said Tooth.

"Absolutely," Jack said.

"I was going to ask you to be a bridesmaid, Toothiana, but Sanderson wanted all the Guardians as groomsmen," Calliope said with a smile.

"I'd be happy either way," Tooth said.

"Calliope can spare him  _one._ We have to balance things out at least a little on his side," Terpsichore said. "Calliope's still got eight to his four."

The sand above Sandy's head twirled, forming the shapes of hearts, bows, and arrows.

"You're going to ask Cupid, too? Well, good, that's five," Urania said.

"Oh, he'll be thrilled you want him involved after everything else," Erato said.

"He's still family," Calliope said. "And he's so important to both of us."

"Speaking of family, are Apollo or Artemis invited?" Clio asked. The Warren grew silent as they waited for Calliope and Sandy's answer, Calliope frowning.

"They'll be offended if they're not invited, but they'll cause a scene if they are," she said.

"You mean, if they're invited and actually show up," Melpomene said. "They might get so mad they just don't go out of spite."

"Nah, they'd worry the other one would show up, see that they aren't there, and think they won," Thalia said. "I say, don't invite them. It's your wedding, it shouldn't be interrupted by their rivalry."

There were murmurs of agreement throughout the group. Sandy nodded.

"I know, you're right," Calliope said, though she was still frowning.

Well, at least Jack wouldn't have to interact with Apollo at this wedding. He could only imagine being pulled aside and asked if he had convinced any of the Muses to stay loyal.

"What about Manny?" Tooth asked.

"We figured we would ask him to officiate, like he did with North and Yelena," Calliope said. "I'm still not pleased about the secrets  _he's_  kept but in light of recent news, he's the least problematic of all our leaders… the only one that hasn't been hostile recently."

"I am sure he would be very pleased to marry the two of you," North said.

"Oh, man, Apollo and Artemis don't get an invite and Tsar Lunar officiates the ceremony? I know two gods that are going to be  _so mad_ ," Euterpe said.

"Well, they gave us no choice," Erato said. "Good riddance, I say. This wedding, politically motivated as it is, should be a celebration of love, not an opportunity for more conflict."

"Agreed," Bunny said. "One day without conflict would be nice."

"So, what's the color scheme? Please tell me you're gonna make Mel wear a pink dress, you know she hates that color," Thalia said. The group erupted into more chatter about small details and décor. It was mostly the Muses, though Bunny seemed to have opinions on colors as well.

Jack took a few steps back from the group, still urging himself to be happy.

_Stop thinking about Rowan._

"Oh, I haven't been to a wedding in about… a hundred years! What about you, Jack?" Euterpe said taking a few steps closer to him with Terpsichore close by.

"Not since I was a mortal," he said.

"Oh, when I was mortal, I was constantly at weddings," Euterpe said.

"Well, you had something like a thousand cousins," Terpsichore snorted. "When I was mortal, where I was from, marriage wasn't really a big formality, you know? It was like, you started living together and sharing your stuff and then everyone recognized you as married."

"Well, that's certainly not going to be the case this time. The bigger the fuss, the better," Euterpe said.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm always down for a party. We certainly weren't strangers to dancing and feasts," Terpsichore said, tapping her heels rhythmically.

"You okay, Jack?" Euterpe asked, eying him again. Terpsichore looked his way as well. He suddenly realized the smile he had been forcing had started to falter as they spoke.

"Yeah… yeah, I'm fine," he said, hoping he sounded convincing.

"All this wedding talk reminding you of Rowan?" Euterpe asked.

"To be fair, most everything reminds me of Rowan," Jack shrugged.

"Did you two ever even talk about marriage? By today's standards and where she was from, she was pretty young for it," Terpsichore said.

Jack winced, thinking back to that conversation at the pole a few months back. "Just enough to acknowledge that it wasn't going to happen for us."

Euterpe and Terpsichore exchanged glances.

"It's not a big deal," Jack insisted, though it felt like a lie. At the very least, the fact that marriage was not an option for him and Rowan just highlighted all the underlying things that made their relationship difficult. "I mean, I'm happy for Sandy, but for a long time now I've personally been sort of turned off by the concept of marriage."

"I feel that. Being immortal changes things," Terpsichore nodded.

"Calliope and Sanderson are very lucky that they've found someone they're willing to put up with for probably  _thousands_  of years," Euterpe said.

"Well, they've gone this long," Terpsichore said.

Thousands of years together.

Jack couldn't stop himself from thinking about the fact that he and Rowan hadn't even gotten one.

* * *

The recreation center was an unintimidating brick building, with pools, various options for working out, and a number of classes to choose from. When Lorelei parked the car, Jamie spied the nearest pool through the gate, watching with furrowed brow as some seniors attempted to do water aerobics, with a young and enthusiastic instructor leading them.

Sophie was wearing water wings and smelled strongly of the thick layer of sunblock that Lorelei had slathered on the squirming child before they left the house. She was set to begin swimming lessons while Jamie took his first art class.

Lorelei had asked if he had wanted to go swimming after his class, had offered to bring along what he'd need if he did. After all, a great deal of his friends were no strangers to the rec center pools this time of year.

The idea of pretending to be sea monsters or trying to beat his friends in a contest of who could hold their breath the longest didn't sound like fun at all, though. He had no desire to do cannon balls off the diving board or dive for rings like he had only a year prior.

So, he had said no. He would just go to his art class while Sophie learned to swim.

They stopped at the front desk where there was a high school girl wearing far too much eye makeup and trying desperately to look like she  _wouldn't_  rather be anywhere but there at that moment. She forced a smile and politely asked how they were doing.

Lorelei said they were very excited about starting their classes today and Jamie saw the girl's eyes dart to him for a moment before Lorelei asked how she was doing. Jamie was sure that he didn't look "very excited."

It occurred to him that he hadn't really  _felt_  "very excited" in a while.

The girl shrugged, stating that she was doing all right and asked if they needed help. After a bit of back and forth, Lorelei was given directions to both the art room and the entrance to the pool from the art room.

Lorelei left Jamie at his class, after reminding him again that she would be at the pool with Sophie if he needed her and telling him to have a good time. The class was filled with other children around his age, chattering about their summers, bouncing in their chairs, talking about the things they liked to draw.

The instructor told Jamie to sit anywhere, and he chose a seat in the back corner, a fair distance from the others. He didn't know any of the other children here. There were a few he had seen before, around the playground at school, but he hadn't interacted with them much, as they were in different grades.

"You can sit closer to the rest of the group if you want, Jamie, no need to be a stranger," the instructor said with an encouraging smile.

He glanced at the others, knowing full well that had this been a year ago, he would have sat with them. He would have talked with them, shared in their discussion of what they liked to draw and talk about great at art his cousin was.

But not now.

"I'm okay," he said, shaking his head.

"All right," said the instructor with a slow nod.

When everyone had arrived, still leaving Jamie in his corner by himself, the instructor introduced herself and explained that today they were going to learn all about colors.

She explained which colors were warm and which colors were cool, and the difference between primary and secondary colors. She pointed at a color wheel and explained what complimentary colors were. When she was through talking, she passed out paper and poured paint for everyone to mix their own colors and make their own color wheel.

Jamie stirred his paintbrush around in the small blobs of red and yellow paints, watching it turn orange. Rowan had explained all of this to him ages ago, going into much more detail.

He remembered her telling him that he could, in theory, get any color he wanted as long as he had red, blue, and yellow (some black and white didn't hurt, either). She had complained that red and blue acrylic paint wouldn't blend into purple all that well and anyone painting with acrylics was better off just buying purple paint if they wanted a nice, bright purple.

He tried to paint a nice, neat circle of orange in the corner of the color wheel where it was meant to go.

He remembered Rowan showing him how she would sketch, saying most everything started with a circle.

He glanced up from his paper, watching as the instructor spoke to the other students enthusiastically, having not gotten back to him in her sweep of the class yet. Other students had already mixed their purples, coming out far too dark and dull, just as Rowan had mentioned.

"May I go to the bathroom?" Jamie asked suddenly, raising his hand. The instructor gave him permission and he left the room, ducking into the boy's bathroom as tears sprang to his eyes.

He sat in a stall and tried not to draw attention to himself as he cried. Rowan knew so much more than that woman, it was clear. Rowan had known about the purple, she had made color wheels with dark and light variations and so many more colors.

And even if this woman did know all that, she was holding back. She was teaching the basics.

Rowan always showed him more than just the bare basics.

He realized he didn't remember so much of what she had said about colors and how to figure out which colors went with which. He didn't remember a lot of the terminology she had told him about.

He could never ask her. She would never teach him anything again.

He had always just assumed that if he forgot something he would be able to ask her again later.

Jamie coughed at wiped at his eyes.

Art class was supposed to be fun. Summer was supposed to be fun.

He just wanted that back.

* * *

Cupid wasn't sure  _where_  he was safe anymore.

The Guardians and the Muses had put him on probation, promised him a second chance to prove himself and earn back their trust, which was great. But at the same time, he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable lurking around any of their lairs, as though everyone was simply waiting for him to mess up.

The clearing where he used to meet Artemis seemed out of the question. He was not supposed to give her any more information. He was supposed to remain neutral now. Artemis knew this, but hadn't seemed to take the information all that seriously when he had relayed it to her.

And anywhere else he lurked, well, always had the possibility of Apollo deciding that he wanted another round.

This was a small price to pay, he supposed, for what he had done. With any luck, he would prove himself and feel less like an outsider sometime before the next century.

For now, Cupid was perched on the wooden fence near a drive-in movie theater. He had been surprised to learn that it was still in business, and felt it was as good a place as any to spend the next few hours.

At least at night he was less likely to run into a certain sun god.

He watched the film, some classic horror movie with cheesy special effects, as best he could with the eye that wasn't bruised and swollen shut. He hoped his vision wouldn't have any long-term effects after it healed.

As his mind wandered, considering the possibility that perhaps someone might have a remedy that would heal his eye faster than it would heal on its own, a golden glow caught his good eye.

Turning, he found the Sandman approaching him, looking as cheerful as ever.

"Hi, Sandy," Cupid said, his voice strained as he set a hand to his chest. Apollo's heel had left it slightly painful to breath.

He supposed he should be thankful he could breath at all..

Or, at least that's what Apollo would say.

Sandy waved in greeting before images flashed above his head.

"Important news, huh? And I'm allowed to hear it?" Cupid asked.

Sandy nodded before more shapes began to form. Calliope, Sandy himself, golden bands and more flashed by to explain what Sandy had to tell the boy.

"You and Aunt Calliope are getting married?" Cupid said, his good eye widening. Sandy nodded again. "Oh, wow, congratulations! You two have been together so long, I'm happy for you."

Cupid barely had a moment to be confused, Calliope and Sandy had expressed before that they had little interest in getting married, after all, before realizing just how incredibly angry Artemis was going to be when she found out. She had hoped to keep the Muses away from Tsar Lunar as well as Apollo, and this was only guaranteeing that the Tsar was not going anywhere.

That had to be precisely why Sandy and Calliope were doing this.

The images above Sandy's head confirmed this, after thanking Cupid for his congratulations. The timing was motivated by Artemis' ultimatum, to make a statement that the Guardians and the Muses would always be bonded.

"Makes sense. Although, I hope you're prepared for Artemis to be upset," Cupid said.

Again, Sandy nodded, the image of the sun appearing above his head, indicating that they were ready for Apollo to be angry as well.

Soon, different shapes began to form, however, and Cupid watched the smaller man, puzzled.

"Oh, you want me to be a groomsman? Yes, of course I can do that," Cupid said. Sandy shook his head and suddenly Cupid felt embarrassed.

Right, he was the traitor on probation, why would he be in the wedding party?

But that seemed to be what the shapes were implying.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean, if you don't want me to be a groomsman, what is it you want?" Cupid asked, hoping he wasn't frustrating Sandy terribly by making him explain himself repeatedly.

Silhouettes of the wedding party appeared above Sandy's head, Sandy pointed to the winged figure, presumably Cupid, who stood directly to the right of Sandy.

"Wait," Cupid said. "You… want me to be your best man?"

Sandy nodded, enthusiastic.

"Really? Not North or Tsar Lunar or something?" Cupid asked, his puzzled expression hard to read thanks to the bruises.

The shapes above Sandy's head seemed to be illustrating their history together. Sandy and Calliope were, of course, Cupid's godparents. They had always been good to him, and growing up with Sandy around had been nice in the sense that he had been exposed to a man that, well,  _wasn't_  Apollo.

He was close to both of them, often spending time with them when he was younger and needed space from his mother.

Sandy was easy to talk to, easy to get along with, and easy to feel comfortable around. He was patient and kind and Cupid often felt that he hardly deserved to have someone like that around considering how difficult he could be.

And Calliope? Well, sometimes it was easier to talk to an aunt than it was to talk to a mother. Aunts walked that line between parental figure and friend with such grace.

The images above Sandy's head seemed to imply that Cupid was just as important to his godparents as they were to him. Sandy and Calliope had been unable to have children of their own (due to Sandy being from another world, they assumed), and had felt privileged to be involved in raising him.

Quite simply, they were family, and he had played some kind of significant role in Sandy and Calliope's story just by being born.

"You're  _sure_  though?" Cupid asked again.

Sandy nodded.

Cupid could hardly believe that Sandy was willing to do this so soon after everyone had found out that he had been leaking information to Artemis.

The small man's ability to love and forgive was tremendous. Cupid felt as though he truly had been given a second chance at really being part of this strange, dysfunctional, mismatched family.

"I would love to," Cupid said.


	12. Listen To Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late chapter is late! The last scene took a weird turn the first time I wrote it and it just didn't feel right, so I had to re-write it. I took a few days off to focus on some other things so that when I came back to it, it would feel less weird. I think it worked out okay, hope you guys enjoy it.

_"Are you doing any better today?"_

_"Well, I mean, there's coffee now, so today can't be that bad."_

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: Listen To Me**

* * *

"Calliope! What are you doing here? I thought you'd be at Arachne's," Erato said, stepping aside so that the other Muse could step inside her room. After months of living out of suitcases, Erato had finally put all her things away and made herself at home at the pole.

She had switched out the sheets that had originally been on the bed with red silk. Various candles were situated around the room, mostly untouched due to the fact that the sun was out constantly this time of year. The thick curtains were open, letting said sunlight in.

An incense burner sat on the mantle, burning silently and giving the room a pleasant smell.

Calliope sat on the foot of the bed. "I've already been there and back."

"Oh! What sort of dresses are you going to make us wear, then? I've got to see her in an hour or so, I don't  _think_  my measurements have changed, but I've also had so many cookies since I've been here, so, she'd better take new ones anyway," Erato said, taking a seat beside Calliope.

"Nothing specific. You'll all wear gold. Arachne will make you all dresses to fit your own style, they'll all just be gold," Calliope explained, looking out the window at the sunlight reflecting off all the snow.

"Good, that will be lovely," Erato said, glancing between the window and Calliope. "Something on your mind, Sister?"

"Well, we're… we're sending out invitations soon is all," Calliope said.

"I see. Mind full of fonts and paper types and all that? Baskerville is nice, easy to read. As long as you don't do something like, comic sans or  _papyrus_  or something. It should be fine," Erato said thoughtfully.

"Oh, no, that's all taken care of, it's the guest list," said Calliope.

"Worried you're going to forget someone? I bet you could get North's guest list from the ball to reference," Erato said.

"It's not that, it's just… you know, we agreed not to invite Artemis or Apollo," said Calliope, still looking out the window rather than face the younger Muse.

"Are you having second thoughts?"

"Well, I mean, everyone's right. If we did invite them, they would cause a scene," Calliope said. "But I mean… I feel  _bad_  about it."

"Don't. They've been terrible lately, this is  _nothing_  compared to what they've done," Erato pointed out. Calliope knew she was referring to Apollo's treatment of Cupid in particular.

"I know, I know, it's just—oh, never mind. It's so stupid," Calliope said, shaking her head.

"What is it?" Erato asked.

"It's stupid," Calliope said.

"Is it bothering you?"

"Yes, but it's  _stupid."_

"But it's  _bothering you_ , so what is it?"

Calliope sighed. "I guess—I mean, I guess I always figured if I ever  _did_  get married, that Apollo would give me away."

"Oh," Erato said, furrowing her brow. She set a gentle hand to Calliope's arm. "You're not his  _to_  give away, Calli."

"I know that. But, it's hard to just ignore the fact that he  _is_  responsible for all of us being here, for the sisterhood we have, for the powers we have," Calliope said. "He's the closest thing I've  _ever_  had to a father. I guess I just like the idea of the tradition of it all, of having him there for this and being part of it."

"We didn't ask for any of this. It's not as though he held our hands and walked us through the process. He granted us powers, brought us back from the dead, and let us figure things out from there. Do we owe him for giving us life?" Erato asked. "I am not a mother because I gave birth. I am a mother because of the time and love and support that I gave my child."

"I know, I know, and I'll be the first to say that he hasn't been there enough, you know that," Calliope said, thinking back to the New Year's Eve Ball when she had argued with the man over that specifically. He had found her drunk accusations to be little more than an annoyance. "But it isn't as though he's never done  _anything_  for us."

"You're afraid of making him angry, aren't you?"

"Aren't  _you?"_

"Of course, but I mean, Calliope, maybe this conflict with Artemis is the best thing that could have happened. We can't keep living our immortal lives making sure that Apollo's going to approve for fear of what will happen if he doesn't," Erato said. "I do think he loves us, I do think he regards us as his daughters, but love isn't enough. You can't treat your family this way, you can't do the sort of things he did to Cupid."

Calliope sighed. "I know, I know, you're right, you're absolutely right. It's just… it's hard, because I  _do_  think of him as family and I just wish he this could be something that wasn't going to cause such problems."

"You listen to me, Calliope," Erato said, drawing the other Muses's attention from the window at last. "You have done countless amazing things without Apollo's help. Think of all the beautiful prose you've inspired, think of all the great minds you've had a chance to help shape. You are more than capable of getting married without an angry sun god giving you his blessing."

Calliope nodded slowly, frowning.

"Hey," Erato said, smiling. "At the end of the day, you know what? There's really only one person that you need to be at this wedding."

"Sanderson," Calliope said, unable to help but smile as well.

"Exactly. Forget Apollo, the whole reason he and Artemis aren't invited is because this should be about you and Sanderson and how much you love each other. Yes, this came about for political reasons, but that's not the point. The point is that this is a celebration of your union and your love. So, the next time you feel bad about anyone who  _isn't_ going to be there, just remember that Sanderson  _will_  be," Erato said.

Calliope nodded again. "Thank you, Era."

Erato pulled Calliope into a warm hug. "Hey, if anyone can remind you that a wedding should be about love, it's me, right?"

* * *

Cupid stood rigid, arms crossed before him. Artemis seemed unbothered as she walked down a row of hunting dogs of different breeds, all seated with perfect posture and waiting patiently as she set a slab of meat in front of each of them.

"Good dogs, good dogs, you can eat," Artemis said once she set the last dog's dinner in front of her. The dogs cheerfully began to devour their meals as Artemis began to wipe her hands off on a cloth, walking back to Cupid.

"I know you're supposed to be lying low, but I'm concerned that Calliope hasn't reached out to me since we had our meeting. What's taking so long?" Artemis asked.

"I told you, I  _can't give you information anymore,"_  Cupid said, frustration not showing on his face quite as well as it might if his lip wasn't split and his eye wasn't swollen shut.

"Yes, yes, I know you told them that, you don't have to put on the act here," Artemis said, waving his comment away. She turned back to her dogs when she heard two fighting over food and simply snapped her fingers. They immediately stopped, tails falling between their legs before returning to their own food.

"You need to listen to me, Artemis," Cupid said. "It. Is. Not. An. Act!"

"What do you mean it's not an act? You've been loyal to me this entire time!" Artemis said, eyes wide.

"Look, I'm still rooting for you over Apollo but I can't be feeding you information anymore. They're giving me a second chance and I can't mess that up so that you can stay ahead of the game. They're my family!" said Cupid.

"Am I not your family? Was I not there when you were born? Did I not help craft your bow? Did I not tell you to come clean to them in the first place?" Artemis practically snarled.

Her voice gave away something subtle resembling hurt, however.

"Like I said, I'm still rooting for you. You've done a lot for me, and I appreciate it. But when it comes down to it,  _they_ are the ones that are always there. Whether they're getting something out of it or not," Cupid said.

"I didn't expect you to abandon our arrangement all together, Eros," Artemis said. A Labrador, having finished her meal, wandered over to Artemis and nudged the goddess' hand with her nose, looking for more.

"I'm sorry," Cupid said with a shrug, knowing there was no way to make this better without ruining the second chance he'd been given. "I'll tell you  _one_  more thing, though, since you're going to find out pretty soon anyway. The Muses aren't cutting ties with the Guardians."

"I should be able to convince them," Artemis scoffed.

"Don't count on it," Cupid said. "The Muses  _aren't_  cutting ties with the Guardians. In fact, they're going to make sure that will never happen."

"How?" Artemis asked, cocking a brow.

"You'll find out soon enough. But not from me. Anyway, I'm late for a fitting," Cupid said, pulling a snow globe from his pocket.

* * *

Jack turned the red composition book in his hands, never opening it or glancing at the pages inside. He hadn't read a thing since the notebook fell into his possession back in January.

Rowan had stated that the notebook was his if anything happened to her. That was clear indication that he was allowed to thumb through it as he pleased, to read its contents, guilt-free, as he had before they had formally met.

But he couldn't bring himself to do so, not after promising her that he wouldn't anymore when she was alive.

Was he curious about what she had written? Certainly.

She had said that much of what was in the notebook was about  _him_ , after all.

He wanted to read her thoughts, to see the words that she had left behind. Maybe she would have written something that would help him decide what to do about Apollo.

But freely, leisurely, reading her notebook now would only highlight the fact that Rowan was not around to give him permission to do so anymore.

He missed watching her scribble in these pages. He missed the way she got annoyed if he hovered too much while she was working.

He missed the way she lit up when she got an idea, the desperate way she wrote it down as though her pen could not keep up with her mind.

"Damn it, Sawyer," Jack mumbled, shoving the notebook under his pillow, where he usually kept it. He leaned back against it, trying to will himself to think about anything but Rowan.

But everything reminded him of her.

The fact that now there was an upcoming wedding was not helping matters.

Maybe he should try to sleep, even for a little while. Maybe by the time he woke up, he wouldn't be thinking about the stupid notebook anymore.

He closed his eyes and tried to force his breathing steady, hoping that sleep would come soon and hopefully not bring any Rowan-filled dreams with it. His mind wouldn't slow, however.

Jack tried counting, hoping that focusing on numbers might help his brain turn off. He had counted to almost one thousand before he began mentally calculating how many days were left until the anniversary of her death again.

Swearing, Jack rolled over in his bed, staring at the wall and willing himself to become very interested in the grain in the wood.

There were three swift knocks at the door.

Jack groaned softly, glancing back at the door. If there was anything he missed from his days before becoming a Guardian, it was that he rarely got unannounced (or any) visitors back then.

Maybe if he didn't move or make a sound, whoever it was would go away.

He didn't want to talk about Apollo or Artemis or wedding plans or anything else right now.

The knocks came again.

_"Jack!"_  came the visitor's voice.  _"C'mon! I came all the way down here to see you. You seemed sad at the last meeting, are you okay?"_

Was that Euterpe?

Was she going to be the designated "make sure Jack's not having an emotional breakdown" person from now on? Maybe he should have seen this coming after talking to her so much on Independence Day.

Give the Muses an inch and they'll surely take a mile.

"I'm good," Jack lied. "Thanks for stopping by."

_"I brought coffee."_

Jack hesitated, watching the door again.

Coffee wasn't something he expected to miss once he didn't spend every morning with Rowan. But he did.

He missed the smell, the sound the coffee maker made, the taste. He missed seeing the smile in Rowan's eyes as she drank from her mug. He missed the  _ritual_  of it all.

But surely after more than three centuries of living, the notoriously stubborn  _Jack Frost_  of all people could resist a simple bribe, right? It wasn't even a particularly good bribe. It was just coffee.

Bitter coffee, probably. And it would get cold the second he touched it.

But, damn it, he  _liked_  it that way.

Jack approached the door, pulling it open cautiously, as though the promise of coffee might be a trick. The short Muse stood on the other side, a cup of coffee in each hand, one with lipstick on the lid.

Euterpe smiled, handing him the lipstick-free cup.

Well, the Guardians had never used caffeine to get him to talk before.

"Thank you… How did you get coffee?" Jack asked. The cardboard ring around the cup had a logo on it, proclaiming that it was from some coffee shop nearby. That meant that it had cost  _money_.

He didn't imagine that being a Muse paid well.

"You know how when certain people worship, they leave tribute? That's where we get funds. Clio's seen enough economic crises to have invested smartly and have money stashed  _all over_  the place that we can dip into if need be. I am not the only one that abuses the privilege for coffee," Euterpe said with a shrug. "Anyway, it's just black. I didn't know how you liked it, or if you drank coffee at all in the first place."

Jack set the cup to his mouth, feeling a nostalgic comfort at the taste and the smell. "Black is fine. Thank you, again."

"No problem. A warm drink usually makes  _me_  feel better," Euterpe said. "Are you doing any better today?"

"Well, I mean, there's coffee now, so today can't be  _that_  bad," Jack said.

"You still seem sort of bummed out, do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

"No," he said simply.

What was there to talk about? Sandy and Calliope were getting married. He and Rowan were not. Not that they had ever planned on doing so anyway.

Then there was Apollo's offer, which he probably should not talk to Euterpe about. The right thing to do was to just… not do  _anything_  about it, right? He didn't have enough information to be influencing anything.

But Euterpe, being a Muse herself, would certainly have more information, wouldn't she?

Knowing more about what happened when one  _became_  a Muse might help him know for sure that he was doing the right thing.

Right?

Euterpe nodded, lightly kicking a pile of snow nearby. There was always snow around his cabin, regardless of the time of year. "That's cool, sometimes it's not the right time or the right person to talk."

"There's not much to say," he shrugged.

"Have you left your house today?" she asked.

"Nope," he said, taking another drink of the coffee.

"Well. Maybe you should take a walk. I hear that helps," she said. "I mean, not now or anything. Whenever."

"I guess I could walk," he said, grabbing his staff and stepping outside, closing the door behind him.

How did he bring this up without being obvious that he was fishing for information?

"All right," she said with a nod. "Do, uh, do you want me to leave or walk with you, or…?"

"You can come," he said, though he appreciated that she had offered to leave instead of inserting herself into his day like some sort of strange babysitter. "Maybe we'll, uh, we'll go to the cemetery."

"All right," Euterpe said. They headed down the nearby trail, out of the snow and back into the warm, summer weather. "How's your work going?"

"I'm trying to tone it down a little. I was, uh, too intense when I wasn't sleeping and none of the kids were able to play because the storms were too rough," Jack winced. "Last thing I need is to lose more believers, I already don't have as many as the others."

"I always thought that was sort of messed up that your powers rely on how many kids believe in you once you become a Guardian," Euterpe said.

"I'm just happy that I have believers in general, honestly. What about your powers? How does that work with the mortals?" Jack asked. The Muses had mentioned their powers being reliant on the mortals in the past, but hadn't elaborated much.

"To stay strong, people have to create based on the inspiration we give them. Like, say I inspire someone to write a song. It doesn't benefit me at all if they don't write it. If they  _do_  write it, then I'm good," Euterpe explained. "If we go too long without people creating based on the inspiration we give them, we start to get weak and feel ill. I assume we would eventually die, but I don't think anyone's gotten worse than feeling lethargic and having a bad headache. And that's usually when you're first starting out because you're still getting the hang of it."

Euterpe tended to come across as quiet, but Jack was quickly learning that if you got her talking about something she was interested in or knowledgeable about, she would just keep going.

Maybe finding out more about the Muses  _wouldn't_ be so hard.

Ducking beneath a low branch and hoping his curiosity came across as genuine, innocent, he asked, "Is it hard to figure out how your powers work? It took me a while to get the hang of flying and everything."

He just wanted to know what Rowan might be in for if she came back. If it was something dire, surely that would just be more of a reason not to take Apollo up on his offer, right?

"Well, we all inspire people the same way, so  _usually_  the other Muses are pretty helpful when it comes to figuring that out," Euterpe said, trying to hide her frown by taking another drink of her coffee.

"Not in your case?" Jack asked, already knowing the answer.

Okay, okay, so Jack was already keeping the whole  _Apollo bribed me with my dead girlfriend to try and convince you guys to stay with him_  thing to himself, and that might be shitty as it was.

But did Euterpe really need to know that when Thalia had been drunk she had told both him and Rowan all about the harsh treatment Melpomene had put Euterpe through?

"I mentioned before that I didn't have an easy time. Melpomene was originally supposed to be the Muse of Song, not Tragedy. So, when I became the Muse of Song instead, she was… really mean to me, to put it lightly. No one wanted to fight with her so they kind of avoided both of us. They gave me the bare minimum as far as what to do with my powers went and I had to figure a lot out by myself," Euterpe said, kicking a pinecone down the path. "Don't get me wrong, they came around eventually and we're fine now. But it really hurt at the time."

"It can get pretty lonely when you live forever and there's no one else around," Jack said, knowing the feeling all too well.

What would the other Muses do if Rowan made the transition? Euterpe had already said she would make an effort to treat her better, but what about the others? Rowan hadn't exactly gotten along with most of them while she was alive.

But she wouldn't be totally alone; he knew that for sure. She would at least have him.

"Yeah, and I mean, any of our powers outside inspiring people and becoming visible or invisible to mortals, we're kind of on our own for anyway. Like Thalia and Melpomene had to figure out what their masks could do on their own because none of the other Muses could do anything like that," Euterpe said.

"Where did they even get the masks?" Jack asked.

"Apollo and Artemis made them, like Cupid's bow. They can do such amazing things when they actually can bother to stand each other," Euterpe said, shaking her head.

"Hm," Jack said. It sure would make life a little easier if Apollo and Artemis would get along and work together rather than try to force everyone to pick one or the other.

But nothing could be easy, could it?

They approached the pinecone that Euterpe had kicked earlier and she kicked it again.

"Can I ask about the transition?" Jack asked hesitantly.

"Sure, what about it?"

"You've spoken about your past life and everything, do you all remember it when you come back, or did Tooth have to help you out with it? I didn't remember anything from my past life until I got those memories from Tooth."

"We remember our previous life, yes. When you come back, it's weird, because it doesn't feel like any time has passed for you. It's how you died that can get fuzzy, though. Thalia remembered hers without any help. Melpomene says she doesn't remember her death and doesn't want Tooth to help her remember," Euterpe said. "I blocked my death out. The smart thing would have been to leave it alone like Mel did."

They had begun circling the lake now, Jack watching the water with a frown.

"You didn't?" he asked. Euterpe was one of the Muses whose death he didn't know about.

Calliope had committed suicide, Erato had been murdered, Melpomene had drowned, and Thalia had been murdered.

The rest were a mystery to him.

"I mean, I went a little while not knowing. I'd have weird nightmares. I got to the point where I was tired of not knowing how I got this way. From what I remembered, I was healthy. I was happy. I was just starting to get somewhere as a singer. So why did I die all of a sudden? So, I went to Tooth and asked if she could help me remember, because I thought it would help. She tried telling me that sometimes we don't remember things for a reason, that sometimes we block out things that are too traumatic for us to handle. But I was  _so sure_  that remembering would help me," Euterpe said, kicking the pinecone again.

It hit the water, sending ripples across the surface.

"I'm guessing it didn't," Jack said, taking another drink of his coffee.

"No, I regret remembering every day," she said, staring at the ground as they walked.

Euterpe seemed tense, uncomfortable. There was a sadness behind her eyes that he had never seen there before (not that he had spent a great deal of time with her for reference).

They passed a small collection of flowers and unlit candles that had been placed for Rowan.

The lake had become a less popular place to leave things for her since she had a proper grave now, but every now and again her story would be in the news again and another few things would show up.

"Hey, I'm sorry for bringing it up," he said, though he couldn't help but be curious about what had happened that Euterpe was better off not remembering.

Talking about one's own death was not always easy. He wondered if Thalia had relayed her story with more ease due to the alcohol.

He considered how traumatized Rowan had been about a near death experience, how much worse it might be to return to life with the memories of an  _actual_  death.

"No, no, don't be," Euterpe said. "I—I don't like carrying it around like a big secret, like something I should be ashamed of, you know? I'm getting better at talking about it. Really, I am."

"You don't have to," Jack said.

"Thanks. Maybe some day," Euterpe said, still staring at the ground.

They fell into silence for a moment, guilt settling in Jack's stomach for making her so uncomfortable for the sake of gathering information.

"I'll tell you mine," he offered, hoping it might make her feel better.

"Only if you want to," she said.

"I drowned in this lake," Jack said, gesturing to the water.

"Are you messing with me right now?" she asked, stopping in her tracks for a moment, glancing between him and the lake.

"My little sister and I were ice skating," he said. "She was on some thin ice, so I calmed her down and managed to get her to a safer part of the lake. Unfortunately, in the process, I managed to get  _myself_  on the thin ice. I fell through. Hypothermia, which lead to drowning."

Euterpe watched him, mouth agape. "You… and then Rowan? In the same way, in the  _same place?_   _Dios mío_ , Jack, I hope you know that means that the universe is like, actively against you or something. That's some… cruel irony or  _something_."

"Yep," Jack said as he took another sip of his coffee, having thought all of these things before.

Euterpe shook her head slightly. "So you were reborn as a Guardian right here, that's why all the Lunar magic's here?"

Jack nodded. "Why, aren't the Muses reborn where they died?"

"No. Well, I mean, I guess Calliope was, technically. We're all reborn on Mount Parnassus, in Greece. That's why, even though Calliope's the only one that lived in Greece during her past life, we're all the Greek Muses," Euterpe said.

"I wondered about that," Jack said. They started walking away from the lake, down toward the street that led to the cemetery.

"Yeah, there's a big burst of light and all of a sudden you're naked on this mountain and the other Muses are there watching. It's really awkward," Euterpe said. "You're all confused and disoriented, you don't understand that a year's gone by, and your body is new and immortal so it doesn't feel right. It's not a fun time."

"But it gets better, right?"

"Eventually. I like to think  _everything_  gets better eventually. One day at a time, right?" Euterpe said. "Been thinking a lot about Rowan maybe coming back in a few months?"

"Yeah," Jack said. "Can't help it."

"Wish I could offer to ask Apollo for you, but he probably wouldn't tell me even if there weren't drama with Artemis going on," Euterpe said.

"Right," Jack said with a nod. "Do, uh, do you think that all of that will affect him bringing her back or not?"

"I think if he plans to bring her back, he's already started working on it. It's complicated magic, it's why it takes a year," Euterpe said. "I mean, he could still change his mind, I imagine, but I don't pretend to know Apollo's thought process with all that."

Jack nodded again, fidgeting with his coffee cup.

"I'm sorry I couldn't give you a more optimistic answer," Euterpe said.

"Don't be," Jack said, realizing that he had gotten all of this information out of Euterpe and  _still_  didn't know what to do about Apollo.

So what was the next step? Did he just tell Euterpe what was going on to try and get her input?

Surely she'd tell the other Muses, and the fact that Apollo was going behind their backs could influence their decision one way or another. He was supposed to be leaving it alone, right?

He was already doing a terrible job leaving it alone.

"She didn't want to come back," Jack said, unsure if he was telling Euterpe or reminding himself as the cemetery gates came into view.


	13. Bad Reputation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. Hi guys! It's uh, it's been a while! Like a million years in fanfic time!
> 
> I'm soooo sorry about the delay between chapters. I never meant for this many months to pass. I finally got a day job and I haven't yet adjusted to working during the day and doing art/writing at night yet. Aside from that, I had writer's block really hard which soon turned into creative block in general.
> 
> However, I dislocated my patella last week! By doing the super strenuous activity of taking a step. It's probably the dumbest way I've ever hurt myself. Because of this, well, I've been unable to drive and therefore unable to go to work. After spending a couple days catching up on sleep and cartoons, I dusted off Fly Me Away and got back to writing. I'm feeling a lot better about this story now than I was a few months ago when I was struggling so hard to update.
> 
> I also finished the Guardians of Childhood book series since the last time I updated! I'm going to incorporate more book canon for sure, but in order to make it work, I am definitely going to be blatantly making some shit up and tweaking some stuff, so get ready for that!
> 
> If you're still reading this, I can't express how grateful I am that you guys have been patient with me and like my story enough to wait this long for an update. I didn't want to force anything and end up with a story I couldn't work with, so I hope this update was worth the wait. As always, thank you so much for leaving your thoughts.

_"You have great power that you abuse! Life and death shouldn't be played with like this, but Frost was a special case and I'd do it again."_

_"Oh, I know Frost was a special case. Near and dear to your heart. You don't think I know just how near and dear?"_

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Bad Reputation**

* * *

Erato balanced a tray above her shoulder, much like a waitress that had been doing it for years. Humming softly to herself, she raised her free hand and tapped her knuckles against the large doors to North's private workshop.

"It is open," came the man's voice from the other side. The Muse pushed open the door and stepped inside. She swiftly closed the door with her heel before any elves could shuffle in after her.

It wasn't that she didn't enjoy the elves or their company. On the contrary, she found them quite endearing. But hell if they didn't devour most of the cookies the moment she stopped paying attention.

She set the cookie tray she had brought on the table beside North's work. "I crossed paths with the Yeti bringing your treats and relieved him of his duties," she explained. "Thought I'd join you. Is that all right?"

"Of course," North said, taking a cookie from the tray. Erato rolled over another chair before settling down. Before she could reach for anything on the tray, the project that North had been working on caught her eye.

A meticulously carved Calliope and Sandy sat on the table before North, the ice glistening in the lights.

"Oh, the cake topper's coming along so nicely," Erato said.

"Thank you!" North said, seeming pleased with the work as well. "Will hopefully have Jack make some larger sculptures for the ceremony. Think a creative project will do him some good."

"That'll be nice, I'm sure he'd do a lovely job. I can't believe how quickly the wedding's coming up," Erato commented, selecting one of the cookies closest to her on the tray.

"Well, the _engagement_ was not announced long ago," North pointed out.

"That's true. I'm still waiting for the backlash from Apollo and Artemis, it's been too quiet," the Muse said. It was only a matter of time before one of them threw a fit, unless they were waiting to do so at the wedding.

 _Let them try,_ she thought. Nothing was going to ruin Calliope's wedding day if the other Muses had anything to do with it.

"I feel like I haven't been to a wedding in centuries," Erato continued, not wishing to dwell on the thought of Apollo and Artemis' reactions to the engagement much longer. "Well, not counting the mortal ones I eavesdropped on."

"The last one I went to was my great-grandson's," North said with a slight smile.

"You must miss being invited to family events," Erato said with a small frown. North had so many descendants, it must be hard to keep track by now.

"A bit. I still keep an eye on my family, but it isn't the same as being a father or a grandfather," North said.

"I couldn't imagine," she said, shaking her head as she thought of Cupid. "I know how much you and Yelena adored your children and grandchildren."

"They brought us much joy. Yelena very much loved going to their weddings. She would be thrilled to hear that Sandy and Calliope are getting married," North said, sparing a smile before taking a glass of milk from the tray. Erato laughed slightly.

"That's right! She was _always_ getting on their case to tie the knot! I swear part of the reason they _didn't_ get married the past few centuries was just to spite her because she kept bringing it up," Erato said.

"I remember once Sandy actually put her to sleep because she was talking about marriage again," North chuckled.

"She loved her family so much, you and the kids made her so happy that she wanted that for _everyone_. She tried setting me up so many times," Erato said.

"I think I remember she tried to set you up with Ares?"

"Yes! She didn't know that we had already dated _ages_ before that, it was so awkward," Erato said, cringing slightly at the memory. North laughed again.

"She was no good at matchmaking," he said.

"Not at all," Erato said. "But she picked you, so, she got _something_ right."

"Well, I _was_ great catch," North said matter-of-factly as he brushed cookie crumbs from his beard.

"Aw, you still are," Erato said. "You could still get anyone you wanted, Nicky."

"Ha! I am old," North said, waving her comment away. Beneath his beard, his cheeks could be seen turning slightly red at the nickname. It seemed he would never totally get used to it.

"We're _all_ old," Erato said. She hesitated a moment, turning a cookie about in her gloved hand. "Surely Yelena didn't want you to be alone forever?"

"No, no, she always said I should remarry after she died," North sighed.

"Do you miss being married?" Erato asked.

"Sometimes. But I am in no hurry."

"Well, _obviously."_

Yelena had been dead for centuries.

"I am very busy, very little time for romance," North smiled.

Erato shrugged. "Romance makes time for itself. You've just got to be open to it."

"And what about you?" North asked, cocking a brow. Erato might be the Muse of Love Poetry, but she had never actually been married herself.

"Oh, you know, I've been engaged a handful of times, things don't always work out. Not to mention, I spent a few _centuries_ raising Cupid. It's never been the right time. But, like I said, romance makes time. If it's meant to happen, it'll happen," she said.

"I suppose so," North said, eyes falling from her gaze and back to the cake topper. His mind was racing, she had spent enough time with him at this point to be able to tell.

They sat in silence, chewing on cookies as Erato thought of Yelena, the lively Mortal Muse that North had married. She had been so proud of North, so protective over him too. If any of the other Muses had even implied something negative about the man, they would be shot down immediately by Yelena.

What would she think of all this?

Erato had kissed North at New Year's Eve. That was as far as things had gotten, and it was easy enough to shrug off as friends fooling around.

The other Muses teased her privately about North and Cupid had simply sighed and given her a few knowing glances whenever she would mention him.

It wasn't hard to tell that Erato had a crush. Crushes on their own were harmless enough.

But if she were to pursue anything…

North had been married to a Mortal Muse. For all intents and purposes, Yelena had been Erato's _sister._ Erato wasn't sure if Yelena would be okay with this or if she would be furious.

Sure, she hadn't wanted North to be alone, but keeping romantic company with her sister? Was that crossing a line?

Erato watched as North carefully began carving at the ice sculpture of Calliope and Sandy again.

At least someone's relationship was working out.

* * *

"Can you tie a bowtie, Bunnymund, or would you like me to fashion you a clip-on?" Arachne said, holding up an untied gold bowtie. The pooka was already wearing the golden waistcoat and white dress shirt that Arachne had called him in to be fitted for.

"I can tie it," Bunny said, taking the tie from her grasp.

Euterpe stood nearby, examining her reflection in the mirror as she turned slightly in the strapless gold dress with studded bet and flared skirt, hands deep in the pockets.

"Have I ever mentioned how much I appreciate that you manage to add pockets to everything, Arachne?" the youngest Muse said.

"Numerous times," Arachne said. "Everything should have pockets."

Bunny swore as his bowtie came undone and began trying to tie it again.

"Are you sure you don't need help? I made North a clip-on, it wasn't any trouble," Arachne said.

"I've got it, I've got it," he said.

"Well, obviously I approve of the pockets and I like the tulle under the skirt and everything but can we add a strap or something? I get paranoid every time I wear something strapless," Euterpe said.

"Yes, that's easy enough, I'll whip something up and pin them on now if you've got time," Arachne said, taking some measuring tape, a clipboard, and a pen in her numerous hands.

"I don't have anywhere else to be," Euterpe said.

"Not going to check in on Jack today?" Bunny asked, looking triumphant as his bowtie stayed in place after his second attempt.

"Erato _said_ you were spending an awful lot of time with him," Arachne said suggestively, lying measuring tape along Euterpe's shoulder.

"Oh, come on. It isn't like that," Euterpe said, cheeks turning pink.

"Ah, right. Erato is so _often_ wrong about these things," Arachne chuckled.

"Don't tell me you've got a crush on him, too. You've all _met_ him, haven't you?" Bunny said with a slight cringe.

"He's tall, he's got nice bone structure, good skin, pretty eyes, a nice smile, it's no wonder he has admirers," Arachne said. "Observation, not a compliment. He's not my type."

"Still, all these otherwise intelligent girls making eyes at a kid that probably doesn't even know how to tie his shoes," Bunny said.

"Is _that_ why he doesn't wear shoes?" Arachne asked. Bunny shrugged.

"Don't be ridiculous, I'm sure he knows how to tie his shoes, he's three centuries old," Euterpe said with a heavy sigh. "Anyway, Jack's cute and all, but nothing like that's happening with him and I. Even if I wanted to pursue something, _which I don't_ —"

"You never pursue anyone. Ever," Arachne said.

Euterpe glanced away from Arachne's many eyes, wondering how much Thalia might have relayed to her about just _why_ her love life was basically nonexistent.

Hopefully it was just another observation.

"He's still so hung up on Rowan. No one has to worry about him pursuing _anyone_ romantically, and it would be shitty for anyone to pursue him right now," Euterpe said.

"This wedding is going to be _such_ fun for him," Arachne said sarcastically.

"I hadn't even considered that, how he would do at a wedding," Bunny said with a frown. "Has he mentioned anything about it? He won't really talk to most of us about her."

"Well, didn't you actively disapprove of their relationship?" Arachne asked.

"Yes, well, for some reason I thought that getting attached to a mortal might end _badly,"_ Bunny said dryly.

"I mean Rowan came up a little when Calliope and Sandy announced the engagement in the first place but he didn't get much into it," Euterpe shrugged.

"Is he going to come in for a fitting, by the way, or am I going to have to go off his old measurements for the ball and hope for the best? I've tried contacting him with no luck," Arachne said as she carefully marked some gold fabric on the nearby table after measuring it.

"He seems a bit gaunt, he might have gotten thinner, I'll get him in here," Bunny said. "Anyway, maybe the kid will buck up a bit when winter hits North America, he loves those kids in Burgess."

"Really?" Euterpe said. "Because every time I've seen him in Burgess and he sees the kids there, he seems really sad if anything. But then, he's sad in Burgess in general, I guess."

"Hmm," Bunny said, brow furrowed. "I don't like the sound of that."

* * *

The interior of the Moon Clipper gave away its age to anyone familiar with such ships. There were furniture and artifacts from a time so long ago, the exact number wouldn't quite make sense to anyone that heard it. Such numbers were so great that they were more concepts rather than real, tangible things that could be counted.

There were navigational systems that had at one point been sophisticated for the time, dials and compasses and gears that hadn't been functional in thousands of years. They remained in place only for nostalgic and decorative purposes now.

Portraits of family members long since passed hung on the walls, as well as portraits of the guardians on the far end of the room. The newest was of Jack, while three spots were quite noticeably empty.

Apollo took no time to admire the antiques, nor the portraits. He had barely spared a moment to knock on the entrance before loudly demanding to be let in. Manny was settled in an armchair near a globe with shimmering lights, not unlike the one in North's workshop, though it was far smaller.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Manny asked, spinning the globe with a lazy flick of the wrist.

"Have you heard yet?" Apollo said.

"Heard what?" Manny said, watching as the globe slowed to a stop with North America closest to him.

"Calliope and Morpheus are getting _married,"_ Apollo spat.

"I thought you didn't take issue with their relationship," Manny said, taking an elaborately decorated magnifying glass from the nearby table. He used his sleeve to wipe the lens before holding it above the globe to take a closer took.

"I care little about who the Muses take to bed but why now? Why after all these years? Why the sudden hurry?"

"I'm sure you'll tell me," Manny mumbled, watching a light that was periodically going dim and then lighting up again through the magnifying glass.

"I'll tell you why the sudden hurry, it's a power play! Artemis must have told Calliope to cut ties with the Guardians, she _hates_ you."

"I'm aware."

"So this is their response, to show her she can't play that card."

"Shouldn't you be thrilled that they're going against her wishes?" Manny asked, still eying the light on the globe.

It was hard to react to Apollo's rivalry with his sister with anything outside of boredom anymore. They were always at each other's throats; it was hardly anything new.

"I would be, but this wedding is clearly supposed to send a message to us as well," Apollo said, sitting down in the armchair opposite Manny. He glanced between the smaller man and the globe, and with an irritated huff, spun the globe.

Manny sighed, setting the magnifying glass down and giving Apollo his full attention that he so clearly wanted.

"Why do you suppose that?" Manny said.

"Come on!" Apollo said, as though it were obvious. "They decide to get married without letting us know? Without our blessing? With everything else going on? They're going rogue, Lunar! They want it known that Artemis can't tell them what to do and _we can't either!_ It's disrespectful at best and rebellious at worst."

"Oh," Manny said, clearing his throat nervously. "I see. You, uh, you think the Muses may still wish to rid you of your leadership position."

"And if I were you, I'd worry about the Guardians hoping to do the same, they're in on this too. The Muses have been talking to them, putting ideas in their heads as they do," Apollo said.

"Well, about that," Manny said.

"What?"

"I actually spoke to Sanderson and Calliope shortly after they announced their engagement," Manny said, his tone as gentle as he could manage. "I congratulated them, gave them my blessing, and they, well, they asked me to officiate."

Apollo stood so suddenly that he nearly knocked the globe over. Manny grabbed it quickly to steady it. "You're _officiating_ the damn thing!?"

"Yes," Manny said.

"So it's just Artemis and I that were left in the dark, is that it?"

"Well, I imagine they didn't want your rivalry to get in the way of the ceremony," Manny shrugged.

"Our 'rivalry' is the whole reason this marriage is even happening in the first place! This isn't about love, it's about sticking it to Artemis and to me. And now _you_ are going right along with it. What's your angle, Lunar? Are you after them too?"

"What?" Manny said, eyes wide.

"That's it, isn't it? Your childhood legends aren't enough for you anymore, you want the Muses, too," Apollo said.

"That's not what's going on at all," Manny said with a heavy sigh. "My good friend asked me to officiate his wedding and I said yes, it's as simple as that."

"I'm sure the fact that with them married, you could do just about whatever you want without worrying about the alliance has nothing to do with it, hm?"

"Do whatever I please without worrying about offending anyone you mean? What's your excuse then?" Manny asked, arms crossed as he cocked a brow.

"You already crossed a line when you brought Frost back from the dead. Don't act like I don't know what you did there, that was a power move if I ever saw one," Apollo hissed.

"You've brought nine different women back from the dead an you think me doing it once is a power move?" Manny scoffed.

"Of course it was! It was you saying, 'look, Apollo, you aren't the only one with these powers,' after going on and on about how we should leave well enough alone with the mortals in cases like this, how we shouldn't interfere with life and death! Hypocrite."

 _"You_ use your powers to manipulate others, you dangle the possibility of a loved one's return in front of them and you love that you have all the power to take that hope away. You go around playing god!"

_"I am a god!"_

"You have great power that you abuse! Life and death shouldn't be played with like this, but Frost was a special case and I'd do it again."

"Oh, I know Frost was a special case. Near and dear to your heart. You don't think I know just how near and dear?"

"He had great potential. He still does. You've seen what he can do."

"Oh, I've seen it. I also saw it years before he was even born in _someone else._ I always thought it was strange you chose him simply because he had potential and died early saving his little sister. Surely there are dozens, even hundreds of young people that had potential and died saving a child," Apollo said, never breaking eye contact. "Oh, but then the hair, the eyes, the _staff_ that he just so _happened_ to find. It's so obvious what you did."

Manny focused on his globe. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"It's crossed North's mind too, you know, it must have. And Toothiana, Bunnymund, the Sandman, they aren't _that_ dull, they just don't want to bring it up," Apollo said.

"There's nothing to bring up," Manny said.

Apollo laughed, walking over to the portraits on the wall, taking Jack's by the frame before pulling it off. "Why don't you put his picture in his old place, Manny?"

Apollo stuck the portrait in one of the blank places on the wall.

"Stop it," Manny said, walking over and shooing Apollo away from the portraits. He pulled over a nearby stepladder, much too short to reach the portraits on his own, and took Jack's image down as Apollo pulled open the nearby storage closet and started tossing various items out of his way.

"Or, better yet, put the old one back up! It's got to be around here somewhere, right? You wouldn't just throw it out. Aha!" Apollo said, pulling out three cloth-covered paintings from within the closet.

"Leave it!" Manny demanded, but Apollo had already pulled the cloth off one of the paintings and held it before him.

It was a portrait of a young boy with white hair and a friendly face.

"Isn't it just convenient that you can bring back any of your fallen minions?" Apollo said. It was as though Jack and the other boy were watching each other, innocent bystanders as Apollo and Manny bickered, each holding a portrait in their hands.

"It's not that simple," Manny said.

"True, true, reincarnation isn't a simple thing," Apollo said. "But you noticed him, and he seemed familiar. Then the way he was always looking out for his sister started striking chords with you. Then he started playing with a stick he found and oh, you were sure it was him; it was like seeing a ghost. You couldn't just let opportunity pass when he slipped through the ice."

Manny said nothing.

"Curious, though, because Jack's not stupid. He was eighteen and while that's not old by any means, it's certainly old enough to have learned a few things like how to check if ice is thick enough to skate on or how to get off of it without falling through," Apollo said.

"Stop it."

"I saw it, I was there, it was in the middle of broad _daylight_ , Manny," Apollo spat. "In a display of sheer _stupidity_ , the boy slid right onto the thin ice. It wasn't his first winter, not by a long shot, so how the hell did it happen?"

"Stop."

"It wasn't an accident, was it, Manny?"

"Stop it!"

"You killed Jack Overland because you are a sad little boy that missed his Nightlight," Apollo said, pointing to the portrait in his hand as though Manny might have forgotten who Nightlight was.

As though that was possible.

"That isn't true!" Manny said immediately.

"But you didn't want people to get suspicious, so you named him Jack Frost. And to keep from showing him _too much_ affection and giving yourself away, you showed him none. For three hundred years. To cover what you did."

"I didn't kill him, it was an accident!"

"You know what? You tell yourself whatever you need to so that you can keep on believing that you're the good guy and I'm just the asshole you put up with because it's better to be on my good side. We're not all that different, you and I, and if the Guardians knew that you _killed a kid_ instead of letting him live his life the way he wanted because you wanted something out of him—"

"I did not kill anyone!"

"They'd probably hate you as much as they hate me, wouldn't they?"

Manny simply glared at the man.

Apollo handed Manny the portrait of Nightlight. "The Muses are starting to think I'm unfit to lead, and if this gets out the Guardians will think the same about you. You and I both have a lot to lose, Lunar, remember that."

* * *

When Bunny emerged from a tunnel in the middle of Jack's small cabin, he expected a sarcastic comment, a jab at him letting himself in without asking. When that didn't happen, for a moment he was sure that Jack just wasn't home and he would have to try again later.

Something shifted beneath the covers on the nearby bed, and a tuft of white hair sticking out near the top told him quickly that Jack _was_ , in fact, home.

"Well at least he's been sleeping. Oi, Frost!" Bunny said, lightly shoving the boy.

Jack lightly groaned in response. He mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like _"Rowan,"_ before turning over and pulling the blanket over his head.

Bunny frowned, having assumed that Jack's claims that he dreamed about her all the time were a mere exaggeration. People didn't often remember all their dreams, after all, and it _had_ been several months.

He glanced at the wall opposite the bed, at all the pictures of the girl lovingly pinned there, at the drawing she had done of him. Near the skilled colored pencil portrait were drawings from children, a few with Jamie Bennett's name in the corner.

Bunny had never really taken note of drawings before, never realized just how many were from that boy in particular. Jack was truly more sentimental than the Pooka had realized.

He thought back to Euterpe' earlier comments about Jack seeming sad whenever he had seen the children around Burgess. Jamie had been his first believer and Jack had clearly grown attached, considering he kept some of the boy's drawings still.

Oh, this was bad. Bunny had warned him about getting attached to mortals, and while the main focus had been on Rowan, mortal children were dangerous to grow attached too as well. Eventually, most of them lost faith in the Guardians and fairy tales.

It was an unfortunate part of growing up.

The other Guardians were used to kids outgrowing them, but Jamie no longer seeing Jack had obviously hit him hard. Maybe all of this wasn't just about that mortal girl's death.

Bunny sighed, nudging the boy again. "Frost. Come on, you have to see Arachne at some point before the wedding. If the rest of us have to wear those silly golden bowties, you do too."

Maybe getting him away from the photos and drawings would help the boy, if nothing else.

"I can't tie a tie," Jack mumbled from beneath the covers. "Rowan, can you tie a bowtie or just a necktie?"

Was he still sleeping?

"I'm not Rowan, mate, come on, wake up," Bunny said, shoving the boy again. He pulled down the covers, finding Jack's eyes still closed. He yawned.

"Jamie tied my shoes last time," he said, sounding sad. He groaned. "I'm gonna show up to Sandy's wedding with no tie and no shoes, they're gonna kick me out."

"Are you still dreaming? Wake up, come on," Bunny said, shaking the boy's shoulder slightly. Jack shoved his paw away, finally opening his eyes, wincing at the light.

"Rowan," he said again, rubbing his eyes before he sat upright. He blinked a bit, seeming to finally realize where he was and what was actually happening. His face fell a bit, but he was quick to try and play it off. "Bunny, when did you get here?"

"A few minutes ago, Arachne needs to take your measurements, she says she hasn't been able to contact you, come on," Bunny said.

Jack yawned again. "Is she going to measure _everything_ again? Because that was… uncomfortable."

"Hey, if I could deal with her measuring the circumference of my tail you can deal with her measuring whatever it is she measures on you," Bunny said, gesturing for Jack to get out of bed. He did his best to keep his expression neutral, or at least vaguely annoyed.

He didn't want to seem too worried or sympathetic based on what Jack had said while still half-asleep. He didn't need to embarrass the boy or condescend him with more vague promises of things getting better with time.

It wasn't what Jack needed now. He needed things to go as normally as possible despite Rowan and Jamie's absence, to show that "normal" was actually possible without them. Rowan may very well be gone forever and Jack needed to get used to that.

As far as Jamie went…

Bunny glanced back at the drawings again with a frown, thinking back to the ones the boy had sent along for him. He had been drawn both as his full-grown self and as the small creature he had been reduced to when running short on believers.

Bunny's heart sank as he remembered that it was because of Jack that Jamie had continued to believe in him.

He swore under his breath.

"You say something?" Jack asked, stretching a bit to crack his back before he grabbed his staff.

"Just that I can't believe I've got to drag you to your fitting like I'm your mother or something," Bunny teased.

"I don't understand why I need a new suit anyway, what's wrong with the one she already made me?" Jack sighed.

"Do not say that to her," Bunny laughed. "Besides, we're all wearing gold."

"Better than the bright orange she almost dressed me in for the ball, I guess," Jack said. "Okay, Peter Cottontail, let's go."


	14. Fake A Smile

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeey, an update! That didn't take months to post! Crazy!

_Her hands were always cold, and there was a time that Jack could remember finding that somehow comforting._

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: Fake A Smile**

* * *

The rehearsal was starting soon and Jack was hardly paying attention to what anyone else was saying or doing. He wasn't really sure why rehearsing was even necessary; he already knew the basic gist of what it was that he needed to do.

Walk one of the Muses down the aisle.

Walk to the groom's side of the altar once they reached the end.

Stand there and be happy for his friend on this happy, if political, occasion.

It wasn't hard.

Well, the "walking down the aisle" part wasn't, at least. Standing there with a smile was going to be the hard part.

The ceremony was to take place in a wide, open courtyard, overlooking Sandy's island in the most romantic, picturesque way possible. There were two staircases leading to an archway where the aisle would begin.

The bridesmaids would line up on one staircase, the groomsmen on the other. They would meet at the top, link arms, and walk to the altar.

Jack was standing at the top of the staircases, elbows resting on the railing as he looked out across Sandy's island. Golden sand looked orange and pink with the distant sunset. The breeze was warm. Dream sand creatures roamed around freely.

_Rowan would love this_.

The thought was so immediate, almost instinctual, it sort of took him by surprise the moment he realized he couldn't tell her about the island or bring her by.

"One day, Sawyer, can't I have one day?" he mumbled, wondering if there would ever be a point when absolutely everything stopped reminding him of her.

"All right, we're gonna cue the music and run through it a couple times," Calliope said, leading the way down one stairway as the other Muses followed.

"C'mon, Jack," Tooth said, flying up next to him. "This won't take too long, then we get to go back to the pole for dinner."

"Mmph," was Jack's noncommittal response. Was it rude to skip out on the dinner part of the rehearsal? Jack barely had a moment to try and come up with a reasonable excuse that wasn't _I'd much rather go home and sulk_ , when Cupid, who had been walking toward the staircases, stopped in his tracks.

He awkwardly watched Jack and Tooth with his eye that _wasn't_ blackened and swollen shut. Jack and Tooth awkwardly watched back, neither of them having spoken a word to Cupid ever since news of what had happened with Artemis had come out.

Cupid cleared his throat and opened his mouth as though to address them before seeming to think better of it and shuffling past them to the staircase.

"I want to talk to him," Tooth said in hushed tones to Jack as soon as Cupid was out of earshot. "But I don't know what to say."

Jack nodded as Bunny and North walked past them as well. "Yeah, I mean, I get why he did what he did but I don't even know how to start a conversation about it."

He and Cupid had somehow become friends between the New Years Eve Ball and the night that Rowan had died. Enough that Jack had sat with Cupid on a rooftop on Valentine's Day and actually laughed a few times as the other boy harassed those that passed by with rejection arrows.

But it was hard to say if they were friends _now_. Now that neither could seem to figure out what to say to the other.

"Come on, come on, we're burning daylight," Arachne said, gesturing for Jack and Tooth to head down the staircase. She carried a clipboard in one of her hands, constantly scribbling down notes with one of the others.

"How did you get roped into being the wedding planner on top of everything else?" Jack couldn't help but ask as he followed Tooth down the staircase.

Tooth snorted, "I'm sure _Arachne_ is the one that roped Sandy and Calliope into letting her plan the wedding."

"So, do you just… not sleep or?" Jack said, cocking a brow at the redhead, following them close behind.

"I don't have to sleep much, when I do it's a short nap every now and then. I suspect it's the spider in me. I love this, though; I love being busy. It stresses me out when I _don't_ have million things to do," Arachne said, her smile coming through in her voice.

"Well, you're doing a lovely job," Tooth said, reaching the bottom of the staircase where the others were waiting.

When it came to Sandy's half of the wedding party, Jack had expected only the Guardians and Cupid. Mother Nature standing tall and poised, small storm clouds gathered around her as usual, was certainly a surprise. She was watching the ocean in the distance, her expression inscrutable.

She was not the only new addition. North was cheerfully speaking with a strange-looking butterfly, if it were a butterfly at all, as it looked more like a flying book. The front cover, back cover and pages acted as wings, while a kind, bespectacled face and body were set into the spine.

A few paces over, speaking to Bunny and Sandy, was a mermaid, settled into a golden wheelchair. She had long red locks and her skin was speckled with green scales that eventually came together to form something resembling a dress above her tail.

Bunny was inspecting the wheelchair. Judging by the egg-shaped decorative elements, Jack had to assume that he had crafted it.

"Jack, I don't think you've met Maris yet," Tooth said, gesturing to the Mermaid. "She's the most celebrated warrior among the mermaids."

"Thank you, Toothiana. Jack Frost, it's so nice to meet you, Sanderson has told us so much," Maris said with a smile, reaching her hand out to shake Jack's. Her skin was moist, and almost immediately, a layer of frost coated her hand and part of her arm. Jack pulled his hand away, wincing.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"Do not worry, I can handle some cold," Maris assured him, rubbing the frost a moment until it melted away. She had some sort of accent, but Jack couldn't quite place it.

"I'm so glad to see that Sandy and Bunny figured out how to have you in the wedding party," Tooth said, gesturing to the wheelchair.

"So am I! I am honored to be representing the mermaids at this ceremony, Sanderson is such a dear friend of ours," said Maris.

"Sanderson, can we sort out the stair situation for Maris before I get everyone lined up?" Arachne asked, flipping through a few pages on her clipboard. Sandy nodded, approaching the staircase and raising his hands.

A few quick gestures and the golden staircase expanded until an equally grand ramp ran alongside it. Maris fiddled with some of the buttons on the wheelchair, guiding it to the ramp in order to test it out.

"Remarkable," said an unfamiliar voice near Jack. He turned to find the book butterfly fluttering nearby, though his eyes were not fixed on the ramp that Sandy had just constructed, nor on the wheelchair that Bunny had created, but rather, on Jack.

"Er, hello?" Jack said, unsure why the creature was looking at him with such awe.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, you just remind me so much of someone I used to know," the book butterfly said, his smile seeming a bit sad.

"Nightlight?" Bunny asked, turning away from Maris testing out the ramp long enough to glance the butterfly's way.

"Of course," the book butterfly said.

"Nightlight behaved better, didn't talk as much, less obnoxious," Bunny said, playfully shoving Jack.

"Who's Nightlight?" Jack said.

"Old friend of ours," North said.

"Old friend? He was a Guardian! They didn't tell you about Nightlight? What about Ombric? Katherine?" the book butterfly said, eyes wide.

"There's been a lot going on since Jack joined," Tooth said sheepishly.

"And he _still_ has not read Book of Guardians, which mentions them," North said, crossing his arms. Jack avoided eye contact with the man, knowing quite well that North had been getting on his case (basically since he had taken the oath over a year ago) to read that book on the altar in the North Pole.

"Well you'd think you guys would have mentioned that there used to be other guardians," Jack said, having never once heard about the people the book butterfly had mentioned.

It worried him a bit, though.

He'd already lost Rowan, and that was proving to be difficult enough on its own. Was there a possibility that he might lose any of the other Guardians? They had lost Sandy before, but as hard as that had been, it had only been temporary.

What happened if next time it wasn't?

"They were long before your time," Tooth said, moving aside as Maris made her way back over to the group after coming back down the ramp. "There are a lot of striking similarities between you and Nightlight, though."

"So they both had a staff and white hair. Like I said, Nightlight wasn't a pest," Bunny said.

"Nightlight was on nice list," North nodded in agreement, smiling.

"Hey, hey, we're not here to reminisce, that's what the dinner's for. North, you go get in line in front of Cupid, then Bunny, you go before him," Arachne said. As the two Guardians in question walked off, the book butterfly fluttered before Jack again.

"I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself! My name is Mr. Qwerty," he said.

"Jack Frost," Jack said.

"I know, dear boy, I know. I've heard all sorts of stories about you. I hear all sorts of stories," Mr. Qwerty said. He gestured to the pages that made up his wings. "I collect them, you see."

"What happened to those other Guardians?" Jack asked.

Before Mr. Qwerty had a chance to answer, however, Arachne cut him off.

"Jack, you're in line before Bunny. Toothiana, you're before Jack, then Emily, Maris, and Mr. Qwerty will be in front, come on," she said. "Sanderson, go take your place at the altar."

"We'll talk later, I'm sure," Mr. Qwerty said, fluttering off to his spot in line. Jack settled into place between Tooth and Bunny.

"Why isn't she fussing over the Muses this much?" Jack mumbled to Tooth.

"I imagine since Clio is Calliope's maid of honor, they're just in order from oldest to youngest," Tooth said.

Arachne cued some dream sand instruments, which began to play a lovely tune. It was slow and soothing, and it made Jack a little sleepy. He noticed Maris yawn as well and Mr. Qwerty falter a bit in his flight.

"Up the tempo, no lullabies!" Arachne said, running one of her hands across her throat to signal the end of the song. The dream sand instruments screeched to a jarring halt before starting up again with a different song as everyone tried to shake off the fatigue.

Mr. Qwerty led the way, followed closely by Maris, who seemed to get the hang of the controls of her wheelchair rather quickly. Mother Nature was next, still having remained mostly silent, then the Guardians and Cupid began their ascent.

At the top of the staircase, Euterpe, the youngest Muse, met Mr. Qwerty. They would walk down the aisle first, before separating and heading to the far ends of either side of the altar.

Euterpe smiled warmly, hooking one of her fingers around Mr. Qwerty's small arm before they made their way down the aisle. Rather than hunch down to link arms with Maris, Terpsichore stepped behind her wheelchair and took hold of the handles, beginning to push the mermaid along.

Urania seemed unintimidated by the powerful, stoic being that was Mother Nature as they linked arms, and it was only mere seconds before Thalia took Tooth's arm that Jack realized exactly what that meant for him.

A smirk twitched at Melpomene's lips as they met at the archway. A string of every obscenity Jack knew was playing through his mind as he forced his expression to stay blank and hesitantly offered her his arm.

Her hands were always cold, and there was a time that Jack could remember finding that somehow comforting. As they walked along, his eyes focused on the back of Tooth's head to keep from looking at Melpomene, he could feel a sense of gloom slowly consuming him.

He was surrounded by friends and he couldn't help but feel so, so lonely in that moment.

How much of it was Melpomene and how much was just the depression that had become normal recently?

How sad was it that he now expected a certain amount of, well, sadness? A certain amount of lonliness, of despair? He now considered it a good day if he managed to leave his cabin and actually do his work without sulking about for hours first.

The cheerful music felt taunting, as did the smiles on those that had already taken their spots at the altar.

He found himself wishing that he, too, could find it in himself to be so effortlessly happy about this wedding, this rehearsal.

Or anything.

Melpomene released his arm when they reached the end of the aisle, and they walked their separate ways.

He took a deep breath as he stood beside Tooth, waiting for the sadness in his chest to subside.

Bunny walked with Polyhymnia, then North with Erato, and finally Cupid with Clio. For a brief moment Jack wondered if he should ask Arachne to re-consider the order she had placed the groomsmen in. How was he supposed to get through this wedding if he had to walk the personification of Tragedy down the aisle?

He shook the thought away. As much as he would like to blame the empty feeling in his stomach entirely on Melpomene, he knew he was giving her way too much to work with. She brought out the worst in him, but the worst was what he was feeling before they had even come into contact.

She had just amplified it.

He had to learn to deal with this; he had to learn to overcome it.

If he could just get through this wedding then maybe he very well could make it to Rowan's anniversary without being tempted by Apollo's offer.

Besides, he would feel so silly asking for the order to be re-arranged because he couldn't handle walking down the aisle with his ex. He could already hear the Muses whispering scandalously about it if he did.

As Cupid took his spot between North and Sandy, the music changed and Calliope began walking down the aisle.

"Too fast, slow down, _slow down,_ walk with the music," Arachne called from the archway.

"I _am_ walking with the music!" Calliope said.

"No you're not! You have no rhythm!" Terpsichore said.

"Which is embarrassing since that's kind of an element of poetry, which is kind of your thing," Euterpe added.

"If you two don't shut up I'm going to kick you out of my wedding," Calliope said to her sisters, slowing down a bit so that she was walking in time with the music.

"You can't do that, then there'll be two more Groomsmen! It'll be uneven," Arachne said.

"She's threatened to kick all of us out of the wedding party at least twice today, don't worry about it, she's all talk," Thalia said. She set her hands to her hips, looking proud, "She's threatened to kick _me_ out four times."

Calliope rolled her eyes before reaching the end of the aisle and standing beside Sandy. He smiled at her, and she smiled in return.

"Okay, not bad for a first run-through but we have to do it a couple more times," Arachne said. "Those of you that are walking, walk in _time_ with the music, please. And for the love of gods and goddesses everywhere, _smile._ "

"What if the person you're walking with has much longer legs than you so you have to walk faster to keep up?" Erato asked.

"North, take smaller steps," Arachne sighed.

"Will try," North said.

"I'll try to take bigger steps, too," Erato said. "We'll meet somewhere in the middle."

"No one is going to be paying attention to how we're walking," Bunny sighed.

"Well if you think that walking in time is too _difficult_ , Bunnymund—" Arachne started.

"I'll walk in time, I'll walk in time!"

"Great! Everyone downstairs, let's go through it again."

And so they started over, walking down the aisle again and again as Arachne called out reminders to walk in time. Again and again Jack reached the top of the staircase. Again and again, he avoided Melpomene's gaze as he offered her his arm. Again and again, they strolled down the length of the aisle.

By the fourth time, their steps were in sync.

By the fifth time, her gray eyes actually caught his and she smiled.

It wasn't that mischievous smirk from before. It was soft, almost sweet. He wanted to say it reminded him of more genuine smiles she had shared with him in the past.

But it was Melpomene and he couldn't say for sure that anything she had shared with him in the past had been genuine. She was so talented when it came to making people feel for her, to drawing people in.

It was little wonder that she and Pitch had gotten along so well.

Her fingertips brushed against his sleeve as they separated at the end of the aisle.

By the sixth time, he didn't dread walking with her nearly as much as he had before. They had already gone through the motions without anything too terrible happening. Was he still miserable? Yes, of course.

But he knew now that he could certainly handle being in close proximity to her without _completely_ falling apart. It was one less thing to worry about, come the wedding.

He still felt lonely, he still felt hopelessly sad, but he was growing confident in his ability to fake something resembling joy.

By the seventh time, everyone was groaning and insisting that they had practiced enough. Nine muses, five guardians, and four other mythical beings should have easily been able to win an argument against one spider-like woman.

"Should," was, of course, the key word, but Jack soon found himself in line at the bottom of the staircase to run through the motions an eighth (and hopefully last) time.

"I am surprised to see you here, Emily, I thought you tended not to take clear sides when it came to the Guardians," Maris could be heard saying to Mother Nature, who was a few paces behind. The evening had been dragged out so long that small-talk was inevitable.

"Sanderson is one of my dearest friends. While this certainly doesn't mean I'll be allying myself with the Guardians, or anyone for that matter, I am not opposed to standing with my friend on his wedding day," Mother Nature said.

"Are you not concerned people will think you're taking sides by being in the wedding party?" Mr. Qwerty inquired.

"If they believe that, they are fools, and I do not concern myself with the opinions of fools," Mother Nature said simply. "I'm too old for that."

"Aren't we all!" Maris laughed. "Are you going to the dinner?"

"No, no, this is enough socializing for me, I think. Are you?"

"Perhaps, I haven't been to the pole in ages."

It was strange seeing Mother Nature speak with anyone so casually. Her voice was velvety and the way she smiled, the way she moved her hands was so eerily familiar.

It was easy to forget how many characteristics could just be genetic.

The music started up again and Jack tried not to think about Pitch, which was no easy feat as he joined arms with Melpomene again.

He honestly hadn't given the man a lot of thought the past few months. Yes, preparing for whatever Pitch would do was everyone's main objective, but Jack had… well, he had other things on his mind.

Namely a pretty, mortal thing.

Everything came back to Rowan, didn't it? His stomach sank as it hit him again that he was rehearsing for a _wedding_. He was going to have to stand there as two people promised to be there for each other and love each other forever and try not to think of the girl that had been taken away from him much too soon.

He already knew this, so why was it hitting him so hard again?

The sadness that had settled in his gut most have shown on his face, as Arachne pointed to her mouth as she put on an exaggerated smile as he and Melpomene passed.

"Come now, Guardian of Fun," she said.

Jack took a breath and forced a smile, which Arachne seemed pleased with, as her focus turned to Polyhymnia and Bunny, who were a few paces behind.

He and Melpomene reached the end of the aisle and separated once more.

Jack took his place next to Tooth, trying to focus on where he would placed the ice sculptures that North had spoken to him about making before the ceremony.

That was a nice, neutral topic to be thinking of, right?

It didn't make him think of Melpomene, or Pitch, or Rowan. It didn't remind him how hopelessly lonely he felt.

It was just ice, and ice always made sense for him. He took a moment to appreciate that, scanning the room for what the best placement would be.

But then his eyes met Melpomene's once more, and she held his gaze for what felt like an eternity before she turned to listen to something Thalia was saying.

Jack shook his head, crossing his arms before him. Suddenly all he wanted was to be held, to have someone smother this lonely feeling.

_Ice, ice, snow and ice. Ice sculptures of flowers, based on the flowers in Calliope's bouquet. Ice flowers. Lilies. Roses._

Rowan loved roses. She drew them all the time.

Jack swore mentally.

"Are we done _now?"_ Bunny demanded. Jack sure hoped so.

"I'm starving! I'm going to wither away right before your very eyes!" Thalia said dramatically.

"Fine, fine, I guess we've gone through it enough," Arachne sighed.

"Excellent! Who needs a lift back to the pole for dinner?" North said.

"Will you be attending the dinner, Jack?" Mr. Qwerty said as he fluttered over to the boy. Jack had spent so much of the rehearsal thinking about Rowan, trying _not_ to think about Rowan, thinking about Melpomene, trying _not_ to think about Melpomene, and thinking about ice and snow in an attempt to not think of anything else, he had nearly forgotten the strange butterfly's comments from earlier.

"I, uh, I wasn't sure," Jack said.

"Well, I hope you do, I would very much like to get to talk to you more," Mr. Qwerty said.

"About Nightlight?" Jack asked, his curiosity peaked.

Maybe the past Guardian would serve as a better distraction than ice and snow had.

"And about you, too," Mr. Qwerty said with a smile.


	15. History Lessons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another chapter where I'm just blatantly making shit up so that the book universe and movie universe can work a bit better together for my own purposes. So, yeah, get ready for that!

_"I think all love stories are nice at some point. They just never last long enough."_

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen: History Lessons**

* * *

Dealing with the rest of the wedding party seemed like it would take more energy than Jack presently had to give, and so he sat on the windowsill a ways away, glancing out at the icy canyons surrounding the North Pole. He picked at a plate one of the yetis had set next to him, hearing the others laughing and conversing in the distance.

Euterpe had stopped by briefly to offer him a seat with her and Terpsichore, promising that their conversation was mostly going to consist of plans to hijack the music set-up at the reception. He politely declined, not feeling it in himself to talk about really any aspect of the wedding. Euterpe seemed to understand and didn't push the matter.

He was mostly at the dinner in the hopes of talking to Mr. Qwerty some more, though the butterfly had been caught in a conversation with Cupid basically since their arrival at the pole.

As Jack chewed on a dinner roll and kept his eyes fixed out the window, he wondered if perhaps he _should_ just leave. He would see Mr. Qwerty at the wedding, after all. It wasn't as though he were really contributing to this dinner much.

He was starting to feel like an outsider again, and while it wasn't a great feeling, there was something almost comforting about it.

It was familiar. He knew how to be an outsider. He knew how to be alone. He was good at it.

Just as Jack was beginning to resign himself to the idea of not talking to anyone else that evening, the strange, book-like creature that was Mr. Qwerty landed on the windowsill near Jack's feet.

"Hello, Jack," he said cheerfully. "So sorry I didn't come over earlier, I got so caught up in my conversation with Cupid! Haven't seen him in ages."

"It's no problem," Jack said with a shrug.

"I've been eager to talk to you ever since I heard that you took the oath. I told you before, I collect stories and I have a particular taste for stories about the Guardians," Mr. Qwerty said, turning around so that Jack could see the pages that acted as his wings flip until they came to a detailed description of the Guardians' defeat of Pitch and his Nightmares the previous year.

"You must have a lot of stories," Jack said, skimming the words on the page.

"Oh, yes. Pictures, too, but I'm still waiting for an illustration for this one. Katherine used to write and illustrate most of the stories I have," Mr. Qwerty said, turning back around to properly face Jack.

"She was one of the Guardians you mentioned before, right?" Jack said.

"Yes," Mr. Qwerty said, his smile genuine but with a hint of sadness behind it. "She was a grand storyteller. Guardian of Stories, actually. She wrote and illustrated the grandest tales. Lived them, too."

Jack frowned. At least thinking of Rowan now wasn't so unexpected.

"North told me about the Mortal Muse," Mr. Qwerty said. "He said she reminded him of Katherine and that you were quite fond of her."

"I guess that's one way to put it," Jack said. "Quite fond" felt like a bit of an understatement.

He was a bit more than "quite fond" when he had to find the courage to simply hold her hand.

He was a bit more than "quite fond" when he kissed her the first time, the second time, the tenth time, the last time.

He was a bit more than "quite fond" when he saw her in the slip she wore beneath her dress for the New Year's Eve Ball.

He was a bit more than "quite fond' when he helped her out of it.

He was a bit more than "quite fond" when they first uttered the word "love" beneath the northern lights.

He was a bit more than "quite fond" when she was no longer able to see him.

He was a bit more than "quite fond" when he sat by her bedside every day hoping she would believe in him when she woke up.

He was a bit more than "quite fond" when he coached her through her panic attacks, reminding her how to breathe.

He was a bit more than "quite fond" when he saw her lying in the snow, tinted blue, gone.

Jack crossed his arms before his chest, hoping to smother that feeling that crept into his torso whenever he felt the urge to hold her. Or anyone, really, but preferably her.

"It only makes your resemblance to Nightlight all the more fascinating. He was quite taken by Katherine," Mr. Qwerty said. "Would you like to see a drawing of them?"

"Sure," Jack said, once more his curiosity peaked.

Mr. Qwerty turned around again, his pages flipping quickly until he landed on an illustration that spanned two pages. Jack recognized a younger North standing toward the center. Tooth and Sandy were off to one side, along with Bunny, who wore quite the strange coat (Jack mentally filed the image away so he may make fun of Bunny for his old attire later). Standing near North was an old man with a long beard and wearing what Jack assumed were wizard robes. To the side of this man was a young girl with a kind smile and auburn curls, one of which fell over her right eye.

And then there was a boy with his arm around the girl's shoulders, and his appearance made Jack a bit uneasy.

He was thin and pale, with messy white hair. He carried a staff in his hand not occupied by the girl. It was as though he were looking at a picture someone had drawn of himself, but with a few details obviously wrong.

The boy seemed younger than Jack, in this drawing at least. Their faces were quite similar but the other boy had softer features than Jack. His nose was smaller, his jaw was narrower, and his cheekbones were less pronounced. He lacked the lines and dark circles around his eyes that gave away Jack's true age.

He was wearing armor on his thin form.

"The old man beside North is Ombric, the girl beside Ombric is Katherine, and the boy with the white hair is Nightlight," Mr. Qwerty explained after Jack was silent for a moment.

"The others haven't even mentioned them," Jack said.

"There's been quite a bit going on," Mr. Qwerty said, turning his pages away from Jack again so that they might properly speak. "You became a Guardian during hectic times, but then, I suppose everyone does. The Man in the Moon doesn't go around picking new Guardians because everything's going well."

"I suppose," Jack said. "What happened to them? Ombric, Katherine, Nightlight, why aren't they around anymore?"

"Their time in this world has passed," Mr. Qwerty said with another sad smile.

"How? Did kids stop believing in them? Did something happen in a battle?" Jack asked, his stomach sinking again at the notion of losing any of the other Guardians.

"Oh, no, no," Mr. Qwerty said, shaking his head. "Nothing like that. Let me tell you a bit about them, and then we can get to why they're no longer with us, hm?"

Jack nodded, adjusting his position on the windowsill. The dinner was still going on a ways away, but Jack barely heard the hum of the other conversations. Mr. Qwerty had his full attention.

"Ombric was a great wizard, a mentor to both North and Katherine. North was a very talented student, certainly, but everything around you," Mr. Qwerty gestured to the grand toy factory they were currently sitting in, "the factory, the sleigh, the snow globes, none of it would be possible if Ombric hadn't given North the resources and encouragement to learn about magic and all its possibilities. Ombric was arguably the grandest wizard that ever lived, and I only say 'arguably' because he would insist that North had surpassed him."

"It's hard to imagine North studying under anyone," Jack said. He had always just sort of assumed that North had always had the abilities he had, that he had always been as skilled as he currently was. He supposed that was silly, but he had never known any other version of North.

"I doubt he would have studied as well with anyone besides Ombric. North is quite… stubborn," Mr. Qwerty said with a smile. Jack snorted.

"Just a little."

"He was well-matched. Katherine was Ombric's adoptive daughter and she and North soon came to behave like siblings and dear friends. He always wanted to protect her, but she always wanted in on the action," Mr. Qwerty said. "She saved Ombric and North a few times. She was quite the bright girl. But she always had a talent for stories in particular and a lot of the stories in my pages were hand-written and illustrated by her. That's where she found her great magic, in stories."

"Stories are what keep magic alive," Jack said, sparing a sad smile.

"Stories keep belief alive and belief is the strongest magic," Mr. Qwerty nodded. "And then there was Nightlight. He was quiet, in fact, I think there were quite a few people that thought he might be mute. He rarely spoke unless absolutely necessary, and he took to Katherine very quickly. Like North, he felt compelled to protect her, but he was motivated by a different sort of emotion."

"He was in love with her?" Jack said, remembering what Mr. Qwerty had said earlier.

"Oh yes, very much so. I don't think he understood that for a while, he was so young and innocent that the notion of romantic love didn't make much sense. She was his dearest friend and he wanted her safe, that was enough for him."

"Tell me about his staff?" Jack asked, glancing at his own, propped against the nearby wall.

"Oh yes, of course. At the end of his staff, he kept a diamond dagger with a moonbeam inside. He could chase away any darkness or bad dream. That's why he was _Nightlight._ He had even looked over the Man in the Moon when he was a baby," Mr. Qwerty explained.

"So the staff was mainly a weapon he used to protect the children, he didn't really _need_ it to be able to use his powers or fly or anything," Jack said.

Mr. Qwerty nodded. "Yes, precisely."

"Hm," Jack said. Well, at least outside of appearances and having a thing for storytellers, things hadn't gotten _too_ eerily similar.

Jack's staff gave off a light, sure, but the similarities seemed to stop there. Nightlight didn't need his in order to fly and the other boy lacked power over ice and snow.

"Ombric, Nightlight, and Katherine all played vital roles in defeating Pitch before he recently returned to power," Mr. Qwerty continued. "They served as Guardians so well and belief was so strong that there was a time when there didn't seem to be anything that the children truly needed protection from. There were hardly any bad dreams; scary shadows in the dark were even becoming rare. The others, North, Bunny, Tooth and Sandy, they all had other duties to tend to, of course, but Ombric, Nightlight, and Katherine… well, they soon questioned the necessity of their positions."

Jack furrowed his brow. Mr. Qwerty sighed. "I know that sounds strange that they would consider such a thing. But the children were safe, and they had been safe for quite a while at that point. They thought that perhaps the time when they were needed had passed, and they hoped to retire and live out normal lives."

"I didn't think you could just retire," Jack said.

"It hasn't been done since. It is quite the ordeal, depending on the individual. Ombric wasn't granted immortality by the Man in the Moon, so returning to a mortal state, while a bit of work, wasn't a huge process for him. Katherine had been born mortal and only gained immortality as a Guardian, so returning to her previous state was not difficult either. Nightlight, however, was a different case. His powers were more erratic and strange, he couldn't just get rid of them, they had to _go_ somewhere."

"So where did his powers go?" Jack asked.

"He hid them away somewhere secret, somewhere only the Man in the Moon knows, somewhere heavily guarded," Mr. Qwerty said. "Once Nightlight gave up his powers, he could no longer fly. He was no longer a mythical being. He was mortal, like Katherine. The three of them would continue to age together now and were free to have typical lives."

"So they just gave all that up," Jack said, his mind spinning at the idea.

"Ombric had been alive for centuries upon centuries upon centuries before becoming a Guardian. With North around, I think he felt it was finally time to slow down and let things run its course. Katherine, I believe, knew that every story had to end at some point, and wanted hers to take a different sort of course after so long as a Guardian. Nightlight, well, he would have followed her anywhere. Giving up his powers, changing who he was so that he might be a mortal man nearly killed him. Not a lot of us can live without magic; we're not built that way. The Muses, for example, are only alive now _because_ of magic," Mr. Qwerty said.

"Same here," Jack said. He was only alive now because the Man in the Moon decided to make him Jack Frost. Without his powers, would he simply give in to the hypothermia that had taken him centuries before?

He had a strong feeling the answer to that question was "yes."

Mr. Qwerty nodded. "Katherine was quite upset that he gave up his powers, she didn't leave his bedside for a moment while he recovered. He knew it was risky, they all did. But sure enough, he regained his strength. He was always a fighter."

"Ah, talking about Nightlight?" came a voice above them. Mr. Qwerty and Jack each turned to find North walking over, smiling softly.

"And Katherine and Ombric," said Mr. Qwerty.

"I do wish you could have met them," North said, patting Jack on the shoulder. North seemed to have finally learned how to control his strength enough to give Jack such comforting gestures without nearly knocking him over.

"So they just… went on being mortals? And died?" Jack said.

"Well, they had full lives as mortals," Mr. Qwerty said. "Nightlight and Katherine got married—"

North laughed, "As soon as he could stand properly again they rushed to altar."

"They had children, lots and lots of children," Mr. Qwerty added. "Ombric got to be a grandfather, which I think he enjoyed very much."

"Being grandparent is great joy," North said fondly. "Is like all the fun parts of being a parent and almost none of the responsibility."

"They lived a long, long time after giving up their posts as Guardians. Even Ombric, who was incredibly old to start with," Mr. Qwerty said.

"He did go first, hit us all very hard," North said sadly. Mr. Qwerty nodded.

"It was the first time we had lost a Guardian. We scattered his ashes all through the Milky Way, so he might explore great worlds even in death," Mr. Qwerty said sadly. "And then, well, then there was Katherine."

"She had grown quite old and she was beginning to forget things. Mr. Qwerty and Nightlight used to sit with her and tell her all her old stories," North said.

"Sometimes she would remember, and sometimes she would ask who wrote them," Mr. Qwerty said, eyes watering.

"There, there, do not cry, you know you lose letters that way," North said, pulling a handkerchief from his pocket to hand to Mr. Qwerty. The handkerchief seemed comically large in Mr. Qwerty's hands. It looked as though he were holding a large bedsheet. The book butterfly dabbed his eyes and Jack noticed a letter "R" bleeding onto the handkerchief when he did.

Mr. Qwerty blew his nose with a noise much louder than Jack expected. "Thank you, I'm sorry, I just miss her. I miss them all, but Katherine…"

"She was special for you. She filled your pages with such magic and love," North said. Mr. Qwerty nodded, dabbing his eyes again. A "J," an "N," and a "K" each bled into the handkerchief.

"I'm sorry," Jack said, truly meaning it. It pulled at his heart, seeing the small creature so upset over the loss of a storyteller that meant so much to him.

Oh, how Jack could empathize.

"If you don't want to tell it anymore," Jack said, "I understand."

Mr. Qwerty shook his head. "No, no, I can't just leave you there. Katherine wouldn't want that. It's not the end of the story!"

"Katherine died in her sleep, peaceful, with a smile on her face," North said. Jack wished he could say it was the first time North had to relay a story like this to him.

"We spread her among the stars, with Ombric," Mr. Qwerty said. "Nightlight was inconsolable."

"He died few days later," North said. "He was quite old, of course, but it was broken heart that did him in, we think."

"We laid him to rest with them. Our Nightlight was gone, but the stars seemed somehow brighter after we spread his ashes. Like he was lighting up the sky for us again," Mr. Qwerty said.

"It's just so weird to hear, that there were other Guardians and they just… gave it up," Jack said.

"It was their choice," North shrugged. "Manny was upset that they would give up their posts, but in the end he respected their choices. We all found it in ourselves to respect it."

"It was what they wanted, and they truly were happy living out their lives as they did after they hung up their titles as Guardians," Mr. Qwerty added.

"Have any of the rest of you thought about it?" Jack couldn't help but ask, wondering if North would get into it at all.

"I cannot speak for the others. I know it has crossed my mind every now and again, but I do not think it is yet my time. I know part of why Ombric felt comfortable leaving was because he knew I would still be here and I feel that stepping down would be a disservice to my mentor. The children still need us. Especially now," North said.

"I had worried about you after Yelena passed, I'll admit," Mr. Qwerty said.

"Ha! She would never tolerate me stepping down to follow her in death. As I said, is not yet my time. Too much still to do. Too many children still in need of Guardians. She and I both knew I would be here long after she was gone," North said, speaking fondly but ending with a sort of sad sigh.

"Love stories always end in such heartbreaking ways, it seems," Mr. Qwerty mused.

"I think my and Yelena's story was quite nice. I'm sure Katherine and Nightlight would say the same about theirs," North smiled.

"I think all love stories are nice at some point," Jack said, glancing out the window again in order to avoid eye contact with the other two. "They just never last long enough."

"North told me a bit about you and the Mortal Muse," Mr. Qwerty said. "I would love to collect your story from _you_ some day, Jack. When you are feeling up to telling it."

Jack frowned, still avoiding their eyes. "Maybe another day. It's too bad Rowan's not here… she would tell it better."

* * *

Jack stood on one of the balconies outside the pole, breathing in the cold air and taking comfort in the way the wind stung his exposed skin. The dinner was still going on, though a handful of the Muses, as well as Maris, Mr. Qwerty, and Tooth had all left, either to get some rest or return to their work.

It was still bright outside despite the late hour. The sun bounced off all the ice and snow and had Jack been able to focus on anything but the story that Mr. Qwerty had told him, he might have been vaguely concerned about being burned by the bright rays.

It was hard to deny similarities between himself and Nightlight, but yet again, another immortal being had found a way to have a life with a mortal that they cared deeply about.

The notion of regaining mortality had never occurred to Jack before. He had been this way for three centuries. True, that was hardly anything compared to most immortals he knew, but it was still an awful long time to get used to the whole "not dying" thing.

He doubted it was possible for him anyway. Giving up immortality and the magic that came with it would likely kill him, as it was what allowed him to live in the first place. Not to mention, it would probably take a great deal of magic and skill to strip him of his powers, magic and skill that he didn't possess.

There had been a time, around the time he had met Melpomene, that he had been so hopelessly sad and lonely that the notion of giving up magic and immortality didn't seem so bizarre. Who would want to live in complete solitude, wandering endlessly, leaving cold, dark destruction in your wake?

But it hadn't been as though the Man in the Moon was speaking to him at that time to arrange anything. Jack could remember nights screaming at the moon to put him out of his misery, to show mercy and end his loneliness forever.

Manny had, of course, not responded. Jack didn't like thinking about that time in his life.

No, giving up his powers, giving up immortality, it just wasn't an option.

Especially not now that he had finally sort of found a place where he felt like he had a purpose with the Guardians.

Still, Jack couldn't help but toy with the idea of life as a mortal. He thought of spending time with Rowan without sneaking around, of actually meeting and communicating with the people that meant something to her.

He thought of having problems that didn't involve the Boogie Man or Shadow People or angry sun gods. Worrying about things like rent and work schedules and dinners with parents and other delightfully mundane problems that had no impact on the state of the world as a whole.

He thought of being with Rowan the way she needed, of actually getting to go through the stages of life with her and not once worrying about one leaving the other behind.

The picture he'd built up in his head was a pretty one. It was uncomplicated, domestic, almost boring, but boring in a calming, sort of comforting way.

But it was something he could never have, even if Rowan were still alive.

He was a Guardian, and a Guardian he would stay, until such a point he was no longer needed.

The life he'd dreamed up did nothing to comfort him, and yet he ran it through his mind again and again. He was no stranger to dreaming up different scenarios where things might have gone differently, but being a mortal with Rowan was the most outlandish one yet.

"You're hopeless," he mumbled to himself.

He should go home, stop being hopeless and sulking on North's property while everyone else was having a good time. The Guardian of Fun was sure being a downer recently, and Jack could only wish that eventually that wouldn't be the case anymore.

But this whole day had been a series of bad feelings in the pit of his stomach and hollow feelings in his chest.

"Jack?"

At the sound of his name, Jack glanced behind him to see Cupid stepping outside, closing the door behind him. For a moment, Jack considered flying away. Cupid couldn't follow, after all, not with his wing in the state it was.

And Jack was so exhausted from talking.

He wasn't sure if it was the genuinely sad look in Cupid's good eye, or the bruising and swelling in the other one that kept Jack where he was. "What's up, Tyler Durden?"

"If I tell you, I'd be breaking the first two rules of… well, you know," Cupid said, managing a smile. He leaned against the railing near Jack, the two of them finding it easier to look out across the snow and ice than at each other. "I wanted to apologize about, well, everything that happened when I was feeding Artemis information. I honestly never meant to put you or Rowan in danger, and I had no idea that Artemis was going to get you trapped in France that night."

Jack tapped his fingertips against the railing, unsure how to respond. Cupid had saved both Jack and Rowan that night… but he had also been the reason they had been in danger in the first place.

There was part of him that felt like he should be lashing out. It was the perfect opportunity to do so.

But he just couldn't.

"I understand if you don't want anything to do with me," Cupid said, continuing on once it was clear that Jack wasn't about to speak. "I just wanted to let you know that I truly am sorry for the role I played hurting you and Rowan, and I'm so sorry for the role I played leading to her death. All I wanted was to keep my mother and the other Muses safe, and I never imagined Artemis would make the sacrifices she did with the information I gave her."

Jack should be furious. He should be cursing Cupid, vowing to freeze him over for what he did. But once again, all he could think about was the deal he had made with Pitch in the hopes that it would keep Rowan safe.

He and Cupid weren't so different.

"I know it's not like we've always gotten along or anything," Cupid said, "but I really am sorry for the pain I've caused you, directly and indirectly."

Cupid stepped away from the railing and turned, ready to walk back inside now that he'd said his piece. Jack turned to face the other boy at last.

"Hey," Jack said. Cupid stopped in his tracks and turned back, clearly bracing himself for a tongue-lashing. "Are we ever going to talk somewhere that's not a weirdly romantic location?"

Cupid sighed. "It's not my fault you like to brood in scenic areas."

"I'm not brooding, _you're_ brooding," Jack said.

"All you do is brood. And sulk," Cupid retorted.

"I do not sulk, you're the one that's been in his teen angst phase for the past half-millennia," Jack said, sitting on the railing with a smirk.

"You weren't even around half a millennia ago, you infant," Cupid smiled.

"Funny you should call me an infant when you've just barely gotten used to eating solid food."

"Oh god, no joke, chewing hurts so much now," Cupid said, gently rubbing a bruise on the side of his jaw. "But I guess I deserve it."

Jack shook his head. "Nah. Even I've never been punched in the face for messing up, and I've messed up at least as bad if not worse than you have."

"Yeah, well, your screw-ups haven't pissed off Apollo," Cupid shrugged.

"Not yet anyway," Jack mumbled, wondering how long it would be before Apollo demanded to know if he'd done anything to convince the Muses to stay away from Artemis.

"Well, it could have been worse. His type have been known to come up with weird punishments, I'll at least heal from this. Eventually," Cupid said. "So, um, are we cool? If you can forgive the pun?"

Jack nodded, taking Cupid's hand in his to give it a shake. "We're cool."


End file.
